


The Twelve Days of Gyftmas

by AcidGreenFlames



Series: It's a Mage Kind of World [4]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Time, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Idiots in Love, Lemon, M/M, Slice of Life, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:55:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21785557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcidGreenFlames/pseuds/AcidGreenFlames
Summary: As Gryftmas approaches,  Sans and Papyrus grow closer to their family of mages.
Relationships: Alphys/Undyne (Undertale), Sans/Original Undertale Character(s)
Series: It's a Mage Kind of World [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1467457
Comments: 45
Kudos: 68





	1. Decorating the Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovlies, 
> 
> well, its almost Christmas! My favorite time of the year next to Halloween! So, lets do the twelve days of Christmas with our crew of mages and monsters. 
> 
> Enjoy

Sitting at the plastic box, Sans can’t help but feel something soft fill his soul as he carefully untangles the lights for the tree. Gyftmas was coming, and Sans had been more then happy to allow himself to be absorbed into whatever traditions the mages had. It wasn’t like he had any great or overly happy memories of Gyftmas

After Gaster had disappeared and all been but erased from memory, Sans’s Gyftmas’s were usually accompanied by being cold and tired and homeless. Of trying to find something for his babybones brother so he believed in Santa just a little longer. Starving in the streets of Hotland long before his power of the Judge had been fully flushed out, otherwise Asgore would have plucked him from the streets long before he had.

Sans was grateful that he’d at least had his childhood before Asgore found the Judge in him. He’d been a teen then, barely out of his stripes, fuck, probably should have _been_ in stripes when Asgore found him.

Eh well, no point on dwelling on his blood soaked past.

He tries to focus on Papyrus laughing with Frisk on his shoulders as they string up their first line of lights, waiting for him to finish untangling the others. 

Papyrus loved Gyftmas. Believed in Santa long into his late teens, because Sans had been able afford gifts for him, because Sans had been Asgore’s _Judge_. He hadn’t wanted to be, he had wanted to be a scientist, like his dad and he’d tried to be. He did.

He’d gone to college with Alphys, paid his way with the money from being Asgore’s _executioner._ Had even worked on the core for a while, before it all became too much. Before the weight of those souls brought him down, broke his soul and it was just easier not to care. When the resets started, it was all the more reason to simply not care.

It had been easier to take Papyrus to Snowdin and live a quiet but pointless life.

Sans pushed it away, finishing untangling the lights and handing the coiled length to Felix, the battle mage was bouncing on his toes taking it from Sans. He watched with a soft smile as Felix, Papyrus and Frist spun the lights around the tree.

Leaning back onto his hands, Sans offered a small smile to the group as he quietly watched them. Undyne and Alphys were laughing while they dug through ornaments, picking out the ones they liked best to put on the tree.

Undyne would lean over to press a soft kiss to her girlfriend’s cheek and laugh when Alphys went cherry red, sputtering into her hands. Sans smiled, happy that his friend had found this. This softness, this love.

Undyne smiled softly at Alphys as she held her hands, their voices honeyed as they teased each other. It made Sans happy, Undyne deserved her happiness. She had been just as twisted; just as bent by Asgore as he was.

Their relationship had been different, more fatherly then he had been with Sans, but she’d been just as warped by Asgore as he had.

Sans could still remember when Undyne and Paps had both still been in stripes, it had been _Sans_ who had gotten them gifts for Gyftmas, kept food in their bellies when he had been the Judge. Sure, Asgore had trained with Undyne, taught her to fight and be strong, but who made sure she had food? Who made sure that she was clothed?

Sure as fuck hadn’t been Asgore. He’d never even asked who had been taking care of the kids, never thought to ask where Undyne went after they were done training or where she found her clothing after her grandmother died.

Maybe he couldn’t, maybe Asgore had still been grieving the lost of his child, but in the end, Sans had been a kid as well, and none of this was fair.

Sans sighed, and tried not to let his mind wander, they were supposed to be starting the celebration of their first Gyftmas above ground and he shouldn’t be dwelling on hurtful things.

Lola skipped not the room, Ryder right behind her at a more sedated pace; the smell of freshly baked cookies wafted warmly into the room from the tray that Lola carried carefully while Ryder carried a tray of hot chocolate.

Sans felt his soul soften when Papyrus brightened, and Frisk laughed as she was lowered to the ground for her drink. He watched as Papyrus beamed up at the big, burly mage, taking a cup of hot chocolate from him. He watched as Ryder went bright red, and his brother’s sly, knowing grin as he thanked Ryder for the drink.

Sans shook his head at his brother, knowing the attraction he saw between them, and huffing at his brother for not making a move. He wanted Papyrus to be happy, he did, but Ryder wasn’t the type to make the first move. The massive mage far too shy for his own good when it came to matters of relationships, more suited for war then emotional confrontations. Even then, according to Lilith, Ryder was their saboteur, part of the black ops team, he didn’t do things flashy like Lilith and Felix. Ryder did everything from behind the scenes, quietly.

Papyrus was going to have to make the first move if there was going to be anything to come of that.

Lilith sat behind him, her long legs folding on either side of his body and her arms went around his shoulders. She pulled him into her chest, nosing sweetly at his vertebrae and her mouth pressed a soft kiss at the top of his collar bone.

Sighing softly, Sans settled back against his mate, watching Papyrus chat with Ryder about the lights on the tree and Ryder going a brighter and brighter red the longer his baby brother chatted with the massive mage.

Sans shook his head, almost laughing when Papyrus glanced up and down the length of Ryder’s body, the mage too flustered too notice his brother checking him out. Suave, wasn’t he? Subtle really. 

“Ryder is fucking oblivious.” Lilith muttered against his shoulder, her hot breath ghosting over the bone just under his t-shirt, causing a shiver to run through his body.

“Mhmm.” He muttered, pressing back into her soft touch.

Sans felt his spine arch when Lilith’s delicate fingers stroked at his lower vertebrae through the soft fabric of his shirt, but he managed to stifle the gasp even when she pressed against one of his lumbar vertebrae, “Dirty pool evil mage.” He gasped lowly; all thoughts of his lost childhood were pushed from his mind at his mate’s clever fingers.

Lilith made a low humm, her mouth hot against his throat as her teeth nipped at his bone, causing Sans to gasp, suddenly thankful that he had chosen a seat far away from his family while they decorated the tree.

“You were looking a little sad.” Lilith muttered against his throat, nosing against the side of his chin as her fingers dipped under his shirt to touch his spine lightly, holding him still when he almost bucked in her hold as pleasure sparked through his body.

Their family had their backs to them as they regarded the tree, and Sans thanked the Angel that no one could see him right now, writhing under Lilith’s touch or the rising blush across his face. He couldn’t get enough of this, of Lilith touching him. After that first time in their bed, they _both_ found any excuse to touch each other and why not while they were decorating the tree? Or, supposed to be decorating the tree.

“And what, you thought you’d come cheer me up?” he chuckled, leaning back into her touch, tilting his head up to press a kiss to the underside of her chin.

Lilith chuckled, her voice turning saucy, “Well, I was hoping to get something up.”

It takes Sans a moment to processes what she just said, and she’s looking far too proud of herself that she managed to turn that around like that, and it makes Sans laugh. It makes him feel a little better, a distraction is exactly what he needed.

Good thing his girl knows how to distract him.

He leans back into her touch, and there’s a brief, smug look before her usual look of neutrality settles over her face. Her fingers fall still, and her voice lowers, “You good though?”

Sans settles against her, reaching back to take her hand and move it around so it pressed against his ribs, “Yeah, I’m good.” He pauses a little, giving her a little sideways nuzzle, “I’ll tell ya about it later.”

He doesn’t want to think about starving on the streets of Hotland right now, not when Lilith’s hand wraps around his floating rib and gave it a gentle pump. Not when he can lean back against Lilith and know that Papyrus was happy, and he could be too.

If he just stopped dwelling on things that hurt him.

Lilith humms, her nails gentle against his sternum, pressing a hot kiss against his throat, Sans sighed and relaxed into her touches. He’d tell her, one day. Right now, he’d rather take a short cut to their room, knowing that his brother was happy decorating the tree with their family, munching on cookies and hot chocolate, with Christmas music playing softly.

They’re gone between one blink and another, and Papyrus smiles.

He’s glad to see his brother so happy, now if only he could convince a large, handsome mage the same thing. 


	2. Traditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sloan manages to convince Sans to help her hang garland.

Kicking his feet up over the side of the squishy chair in their movie room, Sans smirks as he watched Sloan carefully put up green garland around the door frame of the room, cursing each time she got it up and it was _off_. She would huff as she would take it all down to try again, and Sans would chuckle, taking a drink of his eggnog.

“You could help me out.” Sloan’s musical voice snaps at him, her beautiful face pulled into annoyance and her dark eyes flash azure.

Sans grins at her, it’s sharp and he allows the light to catch his fangs in a way he’s learned turns Lilith’s crank. Too bad she wasn’t here right now, off saving the world probably. “I could.” He agrees slowly as Sloan takes the garland all down again, and he picks up his glass of eggnog, “But then who would drink this?”

Sloan rolls her eyes so hard, Sans thinks she might see into the future and she starts to put the garland back up for the fourth time. Sans hopes she can see into the future, and see she needs to put the garland up at least eight more times before Sans is willing to help.

“You’re such a gremlin.” Sloan huffs, getting the first part of the garland up.

Yup, he was, and he was starting to feel better. Like himself. The kind of Sans that pulled pranks and told bad jokes and laughed at his adopted sister trying to put up garland.

He grins up at her, lazy and relaxed, “Yup. Sure am.” She turns to give him a dirty look, “but sadly, gremlins don’t work during the Gryftmas season.”

Sloan gives him a shrewd look, and Sans grins; he knows when the cogs in her pretty head are turning, and it’ll either be a win for him or a catastrophe.

“I’ll make you a deal.” She said slowly, her grin a little sharper, like Lilith’s just before she goes in for a kill, and part of Sans sits up to pay attention. Sloan is good with her words, she can find a loophole or create them, better than Sans can.

“Depends.” He tells her slowly, slouching further into the chair.

Sloan grins, the lack of a denial means she’s got his attention, “Help me put up the garland, and I’ll fill you in on some mage Christmas traditions.”

Sans frowns at her, canting his head as he taps his chin in faux thought, but this seems too easy “Hmmmm. Could do that, but Lilith will tell me, so I don’t think I’ll pick up what your putt’n down there Sloan.”

Then Sloan grins, her smirk sharp, because she’s got his interests, “Sure could. But imagine how _impressed_ Lilith will be if you already know some stuff.”

Sans pauses, and blinks at her, and well… damn. Okay, to see Lilith’s face light up at the tidbits of knowledge he’s gained on his own would be worth it.

Sans sighs, narrowing his sockets at her, “What sort of information?”

Sloan gives him a triumphant look, “I’ll give you one for free.” She leans against the wall with one hand, “Tooth fairy? A vicious subset of the fay who steal people’s teeth right from their mouth, and during the war we would unleash a flock of tooth fairy onto our enemies purely out of spite.”

Sans blinks at her and his permi-grin falls as much as it can, “Wait. What?”

Sloan grins at him, knows she’s won, “Yup. The whole thing about putting a tooth under your pillow and getting money for it? A real thing, they give you money as a thank you for not making them work for the tooth, but it’s also an invitation to come back for the rest of your teeth. So, be careful who you let into your home.”

Sans blinks at her, slow and owlish as he takes in that bit of information, and okay yeah. Tickle him interested. With a heavy sigh, Sans throws his legs back the other way to the carpet and pushes himself up to help, “Okay, you win. What else?”

Sloan’s triumphant grin flashes at him as she nudges the chair to him so he can climb up. She hands him the garland to put up, and Sloan takes a step back to ensure that it’s going up even, “Well.” She said slowly, her grin wide as Sans puts up the decoration, climbs off the chair and nudges it over to repeat the process, “We all watch the best Christmas movie every 23rd of December.” It’s said with such certainty, that it can only be one movie.

Sans glances over his shoulder, grinning at her, “A Muppets Christmas Carol?” Sloan gives him an amused look, quirking a brow at him. Sans shrugs and puts up the next section of garland, “Next to Mettaton’s Gyftmas special, The Muppets Christmas Carol was the only thing that fell underground.”

Sloan nods as Sans moves over and puts up the next section of garland, listening to Sloan’s instructions of lifting it a little higher, “Now come on, the real traditions.”

Smirking, Sloan shoves down the swell of hurt that tries to chock her. The Muppets Christmas Carol had come out so, so long ago. It was older than Frisk was, and they’d had _nothing_. Nothing new, nothing after that movie had survived the fall into the underworld, where her Den mates had been trapped.

Where her Den mates had nearly starved, another victim of the mages war. The _first_ victims.

Licking her lips, Sloan felt her vice rattle in her soul, felt ever inch of her 19 LV burn under her skin at the injustice. The unfairness of it all.

Viciousness clawed at her throat, and she swallowed it back, pressing her mouth into a smile; the kind of smile that during the war would lull enemies into a false sense of security before she tore their throats out. 

“Sloan?” Sans’s voice is hesitant, his brow furrowed, and she can see the hesitation at the corners of his forced grin, “You all good?”

Sloan presses her mouth into a brighter smile, her soul twisting at being caught, her magic burning at her fingers, begging to be used; but at who? Start another war with the Durham for locking the monsters away? Pick a fight with Asgore for leaving them there?

Was it really worth it?

“I’m fine Sans.” Her voice is even steven, she’s the steady one of the Den. The one who _doesn’t_ lose their temper even when their world falls apart around her.

Sans looks at her, _really_ looks at her, like he can see into her soul, like he’s the one with the soul trait and not her, but she doesn’t feel the prickle of a Check, “Yeah.” He says slowly, turning back to the garland, “Lilith gets like that sometimes too.” He tells her, and Sloan is about to ask like how when he continues, “Sometimes her vice creeps up on her. Shoved to the surface by her LV, usually by something innocent.”

Sloan freezes, her body tensing as though reading for a fight, and it takes her a moment to remember that Sans was the Judge, and that meant something. What exactly, Sloan had never thought her place to ask. Either Sans would tell them in his own time, or he wouldn’t. Frisk’s memories only hinted, and Sloan suspected that maybe only Lilith knew the full truth.

That was debatable of course.

Sloan takes a breath, finds calm inside and swallows hard. Her voice is even and smooth, ~~and she doesn’t at all think about murdering the fuckers who did this. Their Den mother, Maia would remember who it was. Who locked them away, Sloan would put money on it being a Coven leader, it wouldn’t be hard to get close to them. Fuck, she’d bet dollars to donuts that Lilith would help her… “~~ I’m fine Sans.” She says again, her smile up and bright.

“Mhmm.” Sans is so fucking nonchalant, “It’s usually little things that get Lilith. A memory, not usually from war, it’s the times between that get her the most. When you all were supposed to be safe. A thought, usually of us getting hurt. A movie.”

Sloan feels her hands curl into fists, feels the magic in her body bubble, her deep well of magic swirling and begging to be used. Old magic, vicious magic, magic that made platoons turns tail and run.

Sans turns to face her, dropping down into the hard chair he had been standing on roughly, leaning forward to allow his hands dangle between his knees. He looks at Sloan, sees the struggle of a high LV mage trying to control her vice before it controlled her. Had seen the same look every day on Lilith, and Felix and Ryder and Lola.

They all had their issues, even Sans.

Even the graceful, steady, beautiful Sloan.

“You got us out Sloan.” He tells her, drawing her azure eyes to him, and Sans wonders if she realizes the edges of her eyes are turning as black as night, “That’s what really matters. Right?”

She doesn’t have a Justice soul, that, ironically, was Felix. Making wrongs right doesn’t come naturally to her, not easily, but she didn’t spend her entire life fighting in a war to make things right to half ass it now.

She was after all, a patient soul. She could bide her time.

“No.” she tells him, and that makes Sans almost frown at her, or as best as he can, “but I’m patient enough to know that karma always gets you, in the end.”

Sans blinks at her, and his smile is a little more vicious, a little more like Lilith’s and Sloan suspects she knows a little more about the Judge then she did before.

It’s enough to shove her vice back into its box, for now.

Sans huffs, “Yeah, it always does.” And there’s something dark in Sans’s eye’s, a hardness, a steel core that had been beaten down but Sans was finding again.

The darkness passes just as quickly as it’s there, and Sans grins at Sloan, light and airy, “So, traditions?”

“Right.” Sloan takes a breath and smiles at him, wide and real, her teeth flashing in the soft light. Flicking her dark hair over her shoulder, Sloan sinks to the squishy chair that Sans had been in before. She throws her long, dark legs over the edge of the chair to sink into it, finding the same ease that Sans had, “So Santa Clause? Real person. Is actually a light elf, a weapons courier in the northern hemisphere.”

The smile fell a little, and Sans’s brow furrowed, “No.” he almost sounded aghast.

Sloan nodded, taking his eggnog to take a mouthful, “Mhmm. Sure is. Real name is Nicolas, Nicolas St. Clause. Code name Santa. Was the only runner who could get weaponry, artillery and supplies around the northern hemisphere. Had this little red slay, pulled by eight magical reindeer, big, vicious beasts. They’d stomped a mage or two to death when he was slipping around from strong hold to strong hold. Very protective of Nicolas.”

“Well, who needs dogs then?” Sans says lightly, shaking his head.

Sloan snorted, “Dogs weren’t big enough to pull that slay or strong enough to survive that cold. Not where Nick worked. But when we were stationed in the north, we knew we could always rely on Nick to make sure we had a strong supply line to keep us going. Medicine, replacement weapons, ingredients for potions? Nick would get it to you.”

She grinned a little wider, her eyes sparkling, “His most famous endeavor? Happened during the winter solstice, December 24th. A platoon of mages had sick and injured, their battle mages running on fumes and almost out of weaponry. We couldn’t get near them, they were stuck behind enemy lines, and we couldn’t dig them out. Brass was thinking of leaving them.” Sloan shook her head, “Lilith was ready to just march in and hell to the consequences. But then, fucking Nick, loads up his eight not so tiny reindeer, and takes off. We figure he’s either AWOL or dead.”

Sloan’s mouth ticks upwards into fondness, “But the 25th? This asshole comes trotting back with eight reindeer, a battered sled with the injured in the back, and anyone who can walk trotting behind. Brought the whole platoon home.”

Pausing, Sloan grins and Sans can see her soften, “We all say that was the turning point of the war. At least in terms of morale, we had hope and that’s a dangerous thing for solider to gain back when you’ve been losing for so long.” The magic had since long cooled from her fingers, “So it became tradition to give hope. Some how, some way, make someone’s life a little better. It didn’t matter how, it didn’t matter if it was small or grand, just. Do better. Be like Nick, don’t be afraid to do the right thing.”

Sans felt something soft flutter through his soul, this wasn’t just a story or hearsay. This was a piece of Sloan’s history. Of Lilith’s, and it send the sensation of what he suspected goose bumps to feel like down his arms.

It was soft, and instead of acting on that softness, Sans gave Sloan a look, “Sloan, how the hell am I supposed to get Lilith _hope_ for Gryftmas?”

Sloan smirks, her tone too light when she says, “Sans, you already have.”

Yup, Sloan is as much of a jerk as the rest of them, and Sans goes bright blue in a blush; it makes Sloan give him a smug, triumphant look.

She shows him mercy when she lightly says, “Alright, come one now. This garland isn’t going to hang itself.”

Still several shades of blue, Sans nods and coughs a little with embarrassment, “Nope sure won’t.” they get up and continue their mission of decorating.

“So, did Nicolas die in the war?” Sans asks lightly, but knows the mages tend to not get overly sad when they speak of the friends they lost, it simply was war. That was that.

Sloan smiles, it’s softer than it had been all day, “Retired. He swore he would never see the snow again and took his eight massive reindeer and moved to Barbados. They all passed peacefully, and Nick still has their grand children, and the little red slay that brought our troops home.” 

Sans gave her a crooked smile, turning back to hang the garland carefully and suddenly his soul sung with happiness.

He liked it when the story had a happy ending. 


	3. Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans has gotten sick, Lilith is there to make sure he's comfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovlies, 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter. Chapter 2 came out really late last night, and I'm hoping to do a chapter a day as a count down to Christmas :)
> 
> Enjoy Chapter 3!

Groaning, Sans rolled over in bed, feeling hot and uncomfortable. He was too sweaty to be comfortable, and his rib cage felt humid around his sweltering soul, his cloths sticking to his bones. The healing crack in is soul ached, pulsed painfully in time with the rhythm of his magic. He was too hot for the blankets of his bed, kicking off even the sheet in an attempt to feel cooler. He shivered and couldn’t fathom how he could feel hot _and_ cold at the same time. 

His magic felt tight in his bones, thick and sluggish, unsteady. He didn’t understand how he felt nauseous when he didn’t have a stomach, and anything he had tried to eat was now sitting as spoiled magical sludge in a bucket next to his bed; his body refused to take it in, his magic rejecting the food and not absorbing it at all.

Vomiting as a skeletal monster was an experience; too many places for spent magic to come pouring out from. Sockets, the bottom of his jaw, between his teeth. It was great, really. A very pleasant experience, one Sans had the thrilling joy of suffering more then once thanks to his shity HP.

Lilith, hardened by war and used to seeing horrible things, hadn’t even flinched when he started to vomit. Simply got him a bucket, pressed it between his knees when he couldn’t make it to the bathroom and shoved his head down. Vomiting as a skeletal monster made it hard to aim, too many orifices to aim properly, and his mate hadn’t been upset when she gently moved him to clean up when he missed.

She had stayed with him during most of the day, listening to his rattled breathing, the magic thick and clotting, catching in his body with every painful breath. His bones hurt, his joints ached, and his head pounded.

He felt like trash.

He tried to sleep, he did. He was tired enough, but too tired to sleep. Feeling too much like warmed garbage, and sleep eluted him, no matter how much Lilith tried to get him to nap.

Another coughing fit wracked his body, his poor, battered bones jerking with every heaving cough, leaving him trembling in the after shocks. 

Pulling his legs into his body, Sans sighed a little sadly, feeling sick and gross. Eye candy if ever was one, when the door to his room opened, and Lilith slipped inside.

Her usually hard face softened when she saw him curled into the fetal position, weak and helpless. All his usual smarmy sarcasm is gone, his grin is smaller, and his bones look almost chocky, and Lilith refuses to think that it’s because his body is too weak to hold itself together.

~~It’s not dust.~~

Frowning when Sans sees that Lilith had brought him up a tray of soup and orange juice, and he feels his soul swell with a little fondness. It’s such a human treatment, but to be fair, it’s not like Sans knows any good monster remedies for low HP sicknesses.

So, soup and orange juice will have to do.

Setting the tray down, Lilith eases onto the bed with a frown, her wrist pressed against his skull with a tsk, “Love.” Her voice is her usual monotone, but it’s her ice-cold eyes that give her away. They thaw, just a little, around the edges, that show she’s worried about him, “You look like shit.” 

Sans manages to grin, and he feels a little better when she’s honest with him, makes him feel a little more even. He manages to push himself up with a groan, and another hacking cough, “Well, at least you’re still the prettiest girl at this party.” His voice is rough and weak. Reedy near the end when it breaks when he says ‘girl’.

At least it makes Lilith snort, even as she knuckles the top of his skull affectionally before she dropped a kiss between his sockets. Sans doesn’t worry about her getting sick, her LV is too stupidly high, and her HoPe has always been stable. Besides, her immune system is like a brick wall.

Lilith doesn’t get sick, not physically at least. 

“You should try to eat something.” She tries, and Sans can hear the hope in her voice, the worry that is only starting to bleed through. He hasn’t been able to keep anything down all day, and his magic is running on fumes because of it.

He doesn’t feel like eating, he’s still nauseated from the last vomiting spell, and he just doesn’t feel hungry, but he isn’t stupid. He knows if he doesn’t eat, his magic will start to cannibalize his body, eat away at his bones like acid and Lilith will be forced to go to Lola.

She’s been working with Toriel and other mage healers to learn about monster healing, and she’s getting pretty good at it.

Lola knows that if Sans magic continues to drop, he will need to replenish it and the quickest way to do that would be straight to his soul. Humans were weird when it came to fluid transmission, they liked to jab each other with sharp fucking needles and put the fluid back.

Sans nearly gagged when Lilith told him about blood transfusion, and the whole thing freaked him out. It made him uncomfortable to think of _someone else’s_ blood in your body. The whole thought was gross, never mind organ transplants.

Ick.

However, the mages had quickly discovered that magic could be replenished just as readily without the fall out of exhaustion that the restoration potions sometimes came with, by doing the same. This was especially true of monsters, and somewhere in the mage compound was donated human magic in heavy plastic bags to be used during an emergency.

Sans didn’t doubt, not for even a moment, that if it came down to it, Lola would shove one of those big, bore needles directly into his soul, hooked up to an IV bag filled with magic. That made Sans queasier than the thought of trying to eat, so in the end he folded.

Heaving a sigh, he couldn’t muster up the energy to even glower at Lilith, “Alright evil mage. If you haven’t had enough of the riveting show of watching me vomit, I can give it a whirl.” 

She looks pleased, and Sans knows that he shouldn’t melt so easily, fold so readily by her approval.

Eh, well, maybe when he’s feeling better, he can work on his spine.

(heh)

He took the bowl from Lilith, looking at it almost sadly like a man being lead to the gallows before he tucked into the thick, warm liquid. It was soothing at his throat, and it helped loosen his magic in his joints. It was thick and hardy, and silently he thanks Lola for her cooking.

Most of the mages could, and Lilith’s was passable but didn’t have Lola’s something special.

He was surprised when his magic accepted the food, turning it into something he could absorb in his body and he felt better instantly as magic filled him. Sans heaved a soft sigh, his eyes going half mast as he made a low, filthy noise of pleasure and Lilith grinned.

Looking pleased and filled with soft affection, Lilith settled in next to Sans, filling him in on the goings on outside of their bedroom. Chatting softly about how Papyrus won over the snow giants to the great north, securing territory for the ice type monsters who were looking for cooler climates. Ryder had volunteered to escort his brother outside of mage territory and had nearly been vibrating with excitement.

She told him how Frisk and Fuku missed his tutoring sessions, but they still aced their science test. They had worked so hard to study for it without Sans helping break everything down for them because they had wanted him to be proud of them.

Jokes on them, Sans is always proud of them! 

Lilith chattered on, filling the silence with her soft, even voice as she gave a full status update on every member of their Den and how they were doing. How Felix’s last date had, yet again, ended in disaster and property damage. Poor kid.

How Lola had been to Ebott County Hospital early this week, going through the sick wards with her healing hands to help the sick and injured. Their world was far from a utopia, but no one was left to be sick. No one was left to die.

The mages made sure of it.

The colder weather made it harder for the protesters to cause trouble, and if Sloan helped the weather along with a spell-started snowstorm no one was the wiser.

Lilith filled him in on the latest gossip and betting pool in the brewing Undyne and Alphys saga. So far, odds were ten to one that Undyne would kiss Alphys in public first. Five to one that when it happened, Al was going to faint.

Sans thought those odds were a little too low and speaking from experience of when someone much hotter then you, was into _you_ , the odds of fainting were way higher.

Too bad his first kiss with Lilith had ended in a disaster that Sans didn’t like to talk about. 

It was a connection to the outside world that Sans was honestly grateful for. A needed distraction.

In the end, Sans manages to chock back half the bowl of Lola’s chicken noodle soup that has been infused with healing magic and half a mouthful of orange juice before his magic closed his throat, refusing to allow him to swallow anything else. 

He nearly lost it, felt his stomach heaved as he handed the bowl back to Lilith, pressing the back of his wrist to his mouth when he felt magic gather like saliva in his mouth. He swallowed it back and Lilith didn’t scold him for not eating enough, quietly took the bowl from him before she rubbed his back.

“I’ve got you babe, you’re okay.” She told him quietly as he swallowed back the nausea with great gulps of air.

Sans gave her a weak laugh, “Well, that’s always a sans-perience.”

Icey, dark granite eyes blink at him, and an amused smile lifts at the corners of Lilith’s mouth, “Did you use your own name as a pun?” Sans grins up at her, and her grin gets a little wider.

“Okay, punny guy, lets get you cleaned up and back into bed.” There’s a soft lit to her voice, an amusement that only Sans can bring out in Lilith.

Her hands are gentle when she gets him to his feet and onto the floor so she can strip the bed and change the sheets with cool, fresh ones.

Her hands are just as gentle when she stripes him down slowly, but there’s nothing sexy about it. Just Lilith pulling his shirt over his head and dumping his soaked t-shirt into the dirty hamper with the other magic gross cloths that he’s been wearing for the last few days.

She uses a warm, wet cloth to wipe down his bones carefully. She’s cautious and gentle with him, cleaning the thick magic gathered at his joins out so he feels a little cleaner. The sweat is wiped away and he feels better.

Damn, his girl is too sweet.

Clean, soft cloths replaced the gross, sweat soaked ones Lilith had striped off him and Sans sighs. Leaning into Lilith, enjoying the feeling of her touching him, she lifts him up and back into bed. Its delightful and soft. The sheets are nice and cool, the pillow under his skull is soft and for the first time in nearly two days Sans feels just a little better.

Well enough to really sleep.

His sockets sink shut and he falls boneless into the folds of his blankets, too tired to laugh at the pun. His breathing is still a little rough, but it’s deep as he sinks into sleep.

He’s almost there, falling into the sweet embrace of sleep when he felt the bed shift under him as Lilith stood up. He heard her soft steps and the light clicking off.

“Lilith?” he calls out to her, sleepy and warm, “Are you going?”

He can hear the pause, sense her hesitate at the door, “Yeah, I was going to go finish reports that we need to send to our Coven leaders.”

“Oh.” She can hear how disappointed he is, how he doesn’t want her to go quite yet. He wants to be held, “Could you stay?”

She pauses, and he peels his sockets open, his eye-lights glowing softly and diffused in the dim room. He can see Lilith hesitating with her hand on the door, chewing on her bottom lip before her mouth tick up, “Are you bonley Sans?”

Oh, fuck his girl was punning at him and nailing it. He offered her a weary smile, tired and weak, and he _shouldn’t_ be as turned on as he was by something so small. Thank the starts above that his magic was far too watery and thin to form anything, “Yeah. I’m super bonley.”

Lilith gives a dramatic sigh, but he can see there’s no heat in it, “Reports can wait.” She says finally, padding back to the bed and slipping beneath the blankets with him.

It takes a minute for them to sort themselves out, for Sans to push and pull at Lilith’s heavier body to arrange her comfortably. He pressed into her muscular body, wriggling into her arms and settled. Lilith’s arms went around Sans tightly, holding him sweetly even as magic sweat was already beginning to gather at his skull.

Sighing deeply, Sans lets his eyes slip shut and slips into the first real sleep he’s had in days. Breathing a sigh of relief, Lilith settles in to watch over him, the tension leaking out of her when she finally hears Sans breath just a little easier.


	4. How are You Not Cold?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Undyne hates the cold, even when her new friends and family loved it.

Gyftmas was coming, or Christmas, as the humans called it, but the celebration was the same, despite what some humans claim.

The weather changed early, snowing just after Halloween and it hadn’t really stopped. If Undyne was honest with herself, she was fairly certain that Sloan had something to do with the weather. The patient soul mage was a powerful spell caster, could sling magical attacks as easily as anyone, could make things _change_ with enough focus.

She could make it snow non-stop in time for Gyftmas.

She could turn their property into a winter wonderland for the Den to play in.

Huffing, Undyne frowned, wriggling deeper into her thick winter coat with a glower, watching her odd little squad playing in the snow. It was one of the very rare days when the whole crew was riding together, when even the battle mages were home and having a day off.

It was nice, Undyne thought, if not a bit odd that she was apart of this little family. That they had accepted her and Alphys as readily as Sans and Papyrus. It was almost like she was…

Undyne shoved that thought down, drowning it before it could take root and make her hope for something that wasn’t real. They were her friends, not her Den.

Right?

Undyne pushed the thought away harder and focused instead on how miserable she was with how fucking cold it was. She pulled her winter coat around her muscular body harder, hating everything about this time of year. It was like a temporary Snowdin, and Undyne hated that little village just as much as she hates winter.

Lilith’s laughter draws Undyne’s miserable, yellow eye up and she heaves an annoyed sigh; she’s trying to teach Sans how to snowboard, and it’s going about as well as you would expect. Although, it was surprisingly not because Sans wasn’t trying, he was trying, harder then Undyne had ever thought he _could_ try. Hell, if that bag of bones had even put an ounce of that effort into being a sentry, they’d would have had a lot less trouble.

Of course, if he had, Frisk may not be alive, and they’d be at war with the mages that loved them. These are some of the things that Undyne doesn’t like to think about.

So, no. It wasn’t that Sans’s wasn’t trying and had everything to do with the fact that Sans can’t find his balance on the board.

Lilith is partway up the small bunny hill that Sloan had created for them to teach the monsters how to ski and snowboard. She has snow pants and a winter coat on, a warm hat with one booted foot clipped onto the board. Her gloved hands are holding Sans at his forearms to steady him, and Undyne is _bitter_ that he’s wearing his sweater, _open_ , a warm toque pulled over his skull and his stupid shorts.

How is he not cold? _How!_

Both of Sans’s feet were warm and cozy in bright pink boots that were clipped into the board under him, his gloved hands are clinging back to Lilith’s forearms just as tightly, his permi-grin shaky around the edge that shows his nervousness. His sockets crinkle as he squints at his mate, but Lilith’s reassuring smile helps settle his soul.

It warms Undyne’s soul to see Sans trying something new, to see him happy with his girl. He deserved to be happy. He had been so down when they were all underground, so depressed that Undyne was sure they were going to lose him. That one day Sans was just going to fall down and that would be that, and she would be all that Papyrus had. 

Undyne shoved those thoughts away hard, focusing instead on how happy he was, even as he nervously tried to learn to snowboard. 

Undyne shivered again, wrapping her arms around her chest miserably. Why the hell had she come outside? It was way too cold, and this was stupid.

Behind her, laughter drew her attention to the massive hill that Sloan had summoned on the other side of the property, the perfect hill for beginners who wanted to ski and snowboard but weren’t ready for the Mt. Ebott. It was the perfect hill to toboggan down.

The laughter came from Lola, bright and cheerful like bells as she and Frisk came down the hill fast and hard. The shield maiden’s small, lean body wrapped around her younger sister like a layer of armor as they bumped along the snowy trail. Frisk’s airy, raspy laugh warmed Undyne’s soul. She was a precious kid, her little buddy, her new bestie.

Frisk was important to Undyne, and although she would never admit to something as soft and squishy as feelings, secretly Undyne loved the kid. Their little hero, the ambassador to all monsters and a newbie time mage.

Despite the cold that made Undyne’s toes curl and the scales in her body recoil, she still gave Frisk a toothy grin to see the kid smile and laugh. Lola laughed with her, scooping the kid up to give a quick snuggle and hug before Frisk wriggled free. Her hands were flashing at Lola, too fast for Undyne to follow easily, but she figured that the kid wanted to go again.

Lola was nodding, speaking softly as she took Frisk’s much smaller hand and picked up the rope from the sled. The mage then turned, her smile bright and her eyes sparkled like emeralds as she looked up the hill. Her body dissolved into magic and dust as she traced up the hill to the peek to sled down again.

Frisk’s face lit up in joy, and despite how awfully cold it was, Undyne was pretty happy to see that.

Even if she was pretty annoyed by the fact that they both seemed to at ease, so unbothered by the cold, while Undyne shivered despite her layers.

Honestly, what was with this crew and not being bothered by the freaken cold!

Undyne shook her head and wriggled deeper into her warm coat, pressing her face into the thick collar when movement just outside her peripheral vision made her tense. She expected a blow or a fight, especially if someone was moving just outside of her vision. 

No one who wanted to keep their teeth sat outside of her vision like that.

However, in the end, it was only Felix and Sloan playing in the snow like the rest of them. Annoyingly at ease in knee deep snow and unbothered by the cold.

Fucking mages. 

Felix has his arm thrown around Sloan’s shoulders and his cell phone is floating precariously with gravity magic; apparently, there’s a new trend among the Coven’s battle mages to take selfies during adventurous things, and Felix hadn’t quite gotten over the fact that he missed getting some ‘very intense selfies’ during the battle underground.

Undyne didn’t get it, the whole thing seemed like something nerds did and Undyne always took Felix for a punk. Yet, he was titling his head up and posed around his sister, while Sloan cocked her hip, pushed her shoulders back and flashed the peace sign over her cheek.

Felix had taken the time to even ask Sans to show him how to use gravity magic, so he didn’t need to use his hands, and Undyne hated the whole thing. It was such a waste of magic, squandering it on something so childish as a selfie.

Undyne glowered at them as Felix stuck his tongue out, long and thin from is smirking mouth as the camera in his phone flashed.

They should be conserving their magic, not wasting it so fruitlessly. What if someone attacked them? Or what if they needed to fight and defend the territory or themselves? They shouldn’t be wasting magic so trivially. So petty.

Papyrus shot past Lola and Frisk on a pair of skis’, having grown up in Snowdin he had learned to skate and ski from a very young age and was very comfortable on the snow. He shifted his body sideways, so the edge of his ski cut into the soft powder, spraying Undyne with a wave of snow.

She flinched and cringed into the warm folds of her coat as Papyrus came to a full stop with a deep _Nyeh, Nyeh, he_ of a laugh. He pushes his goggles up onto the top of his knitted cap, his eyes sparkling happily at the change to play in the snow, again unbothered by the cold.

Undyne gives him a flat look, “Hey Papyrus.”

He practically beams at her, “UNDYNE! ARE YOU HAVING FUN IN THE SNOW?”

She gives him a flatter look, she can practically feel her eye dulling in how much she is _not_ having fun in the snow, “No. It’s fucking cold.” She spits.

Papyrus laughs again, clasping her shoulder hard that would have knocked a normal monster to their knees, “NOW UNDYNE, DON’T LET THE COLD DRIVE YOU INSIDE. THERE’S SO MUCH TO DO IN THE SNOW. IT ALMOST FEELS LIKE HOME!”

Undyne hated Snowdin, she did. It was why she hired Sans as a sentry after he burned out as the Judge. She felt like she didn’t _need_ to go to Snowdin to check up on them.

Papyrus gasps happily his eyes sparkling as he claps his hands together, behind him Ryder is coming down the hill, stopping suddenly behind Felix and Sloan to photobomb Felix’s carefully planned selfie to give them a wide grin and a thumbs up. It looks almost wrong as his deeply scared face, but it makes Sloan laugh and Felix squawked with indignation.

“I KNOW UNDYNE! COME WITH RYDER AND I!” huh, that makes Undyne frown at him, squinting at her best friend with suspicion. He seems to be spending a ton of time with that mage, “RYDER IS GOING TO TAKE ME SNOWSHOWING INTO THE FORST, HE KNOWS THIS STUPIDLY HARD TRAIL THAT WILL TAKE US A FEW HOURS TO COMPLETE! IT WILL BE SO MUCH FUN!”

Fun? In the snow and cold? Third wheeling on what is _clearly_ a date the mage was trying to plan, to get Papyrus alone in the snow. The mage, despite being so massive and fierce looking, was so fucking soft and usually got all tongue tied when ever Papyrus smiled him.

Mentally, Undyne rolled her eye at how much a soft dork Ryder was and how fucking _blind_ Papyrus was.

Still, Undyne gave Papyrus the flattest look she could dredge up and poured as much irritation into her intent as she could. She didn’t bother sighing or huffing, simply spun around on the balls of her feed and stomped back towards the mage’s compound.

Irritation filtered through Undyne as she stomped towards the building, grumbling under her breath about how stupid the cold was and how terrible everything was. Honestly, the cold was stupid! At least under ground she could have gone to Waterfall and been comfortable.

She ignorers Papyrus calling her name, asking her to come back. Nope, no thanks. She would rather go inside and snuggle with her favorite nerd, who took to the cold worse then her, then play in the snow.

Undyne paused coming to the back door that would open to their kitchen and offered a gentle smile to the wood. She was safe here, welcomed here. It was like she was apart of…

Undyne shakes her head, kicks the snow off her boots. Alphys would be in her lab that the mages set up for her, and it was about time for her to have lunch anyways.

It was a good thing that Undyne was here to take care of her; with a shy smile and a blush that spread over his face, Undyne felt the softness in her soul grow.

She stripped off her coat only when the heat of the building soaked into her scales, and she went to go find her girlfriend.


	5. Hot Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans just wanted a quiet afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little bit angsty. :)

It’s a quiet afternoon, and that is how Sans likes them. Quiet, relaxing. Angel willing, Lilith wouldn’t be taken far from their home and would be home in the evening in time for supper or at least sleeping in their bed.

Frisk, Fuku and Monster Kid would come over to their place after school for snacks and homework. Sans still saw Dr. Tracy three times a week, having only recently dropped one of his sessions after weeks of four. The decision had been spoken about between Dr. Tracy and himself, and Sans was only starting to really being able to deal with his issues. The Den would always ensure that one of them would be able to go with him, sitting in the waiting room, finishing reports or something else until Sans was done.

As the weeks turned into months and Gyftmas was coming up, Lilith needed to get back to her duty as a battle mage fill time, being called further away into their territory to look after their other people. It meant that she couldn’t always be the one to take him, but he didn’t mind it so much if it was the others now.

Lilith always ensured that she would call him immediately after his session, no matter what she was doing or how far she went. He still chuckles when he remembered the last time she called him, she and her Valkyrie friend Saja were dealing with humans attacking a goblin village, and her voice had been normal despite the sounds of battle and fighting in the background. Lilith never missed a call, not once.

It also meant that Sans was still the most likely of the Den to be home in time to greet the kids after school. Sans was fine, happy to even, to help with the kids so long as he was still in a good place after his session. So long as he _could_ take care of the kids, and they had contingency plans in the times he couldn’t.

Sans glances out the window to the snow that’s coming down in slow, fat flakes and turns on the kettle to make hot chocolate for the kiddos. There’s already a bag of onion rings, still warm from Grillby’s on the kitchen table, a thank you from the fire monster himself for taking care of his niece.

Not that Grillby ever needed to say thank you, they were friends after all, but Sans appreciated the snack for the kiddos and the lunch that came every weekday none the less.

He pulls down four mugs from the cupboards and places them on the table, moving to the shelf where he hid the marshmallows. He dolled out even amounts into each mug, along with the good hot chocolate as the kettle clicked off.

He poured the boiling water into the mug as the front door opened up, and he carefully added milk into each cup. Little suzie home maker, wasn’t he?

“Heya kiddos, he called out to them as he clicked the kettle back down onto its stand, “what are we working on today? Math or science?”

Monster Kid came hopping into the room, his smile wide and bright, “Math today!” he says happily as he drops his backpack against the wall, digging out his math book to drop onto the table.

Sans smiles at the kid as Fuku comes in next, “Excellent kiddo.” He gives MK a grin, “I’m sure the _addition_ of math to our science homework won’t _subtract_ from our usual work.” Monster Kid laughed and Fuku rolled her eyes, so Sans keeps going, “we’ll _divide_ and conquer your homework. We’ll _multiple_ how much we get through.”

Frisk came bouncing into the room next, throwing herself at Sans in a bear hug, which is easily returned fondly. Sans gives her a little cuddle affectionately, his voice so full of love for the little girl, “How was your day kiddo?”

Sans let her go so he can follow the swift movements her hands, “ _Good! We’re learning about stars right now in school, but I_ know _everything the teacher is trying to tell us from you. But I can help my classmates!”_

Sans smiles happily at the excited signing, Frisk’s smile wide and so full of life, “ _That’s why we don’t need help in science right now, but we’re all struggling in math. Oh! Asriel came along too, he’s struggling in math too, I hope that’s okay Sans._ ” 

That made Sans freeze and something akin to panic seize his soul. He hadn’t seen the Prince since they had gotten above ground, nearly five months, and he had only caught glimpses at school things with Frisk.

Frisk frowned up at him, having no idea why Sans was _terrified_ by the prospect of the child coming into his home, coming into _his_ space. His grin went shaky, eye-lights disappearing as his hands began to tremble.

“ _Sans?_ ” Frisk is frowning up at him, concerned, and Sans hates how she squirms with uncertainty, “ _Are you okay?_ ”

Frisk has no idea what happened underground. Had no idea what Flowey had done to him, had no idea that it had been Flowey that held him down, spread his legs apart and allowed Oliva to…

Sans swallows hard and forces his eye-lights to come back, but he can’t quite get his smile to brighten, “I’m fine kiddo.” His hands are trembling, and he’s no where near ready to speak to Asriel, “Listen, snacks and hot drinks are on the table. Why don’t you guys settle in and I’ll be right back.”

Frisk gives him a weird look, her frown deepening, “ _Sans?_ ” 

The floorboards creek behind him, and Sans feels his body lock up, feels tension that has steadily building inside of him. His spine is like a steel rod and he can feel a tension headache building. It’s like a horror movie, or the time underground, when Sans saw Chara for the very first time. When he and Lilith had been sitting at his kitchen table, her soft voice telling him not to turn around.

Lilith wasn’t here now, and Sans desperately wished she was.

Still, he was the adult here and all the kids were staring at him curiously, and Sans forced himself to turn. He wished he could say he was ready to see Asriel, prepared to deal with the wave of emotions when he looked into Asriel’s face and sees Flowey’s eyes staring back at him. He wished that all his therapy would have been able to help him cope with this situation right now.

He wasn’t ready, and it didn’t help. Not yet, it was still too soon. Too much to unravel, too much to deal with at once, and Sans felt woefully unprepared to deal with this.

Sans turned, his breath rushing from his body and it felt like he took a direct punch to his chest from Felix during a training session to see Asriel standing hesitantly in the doorway of his kitchen.

Asriel gives him a hesitant smile, his tiny hands wringing in front of him and his eyes are glossy, “Hi Sans.” He said quietly, his voice just as hesitant, “I-I hope it’s okay I’m here.”

It’s not, not even a little and Sans feels his throat thicken. Behind him, the other kids are frowning at him, confused and suddenly worried as Sans feels his LV throb hotly in his soul. It was like acid in his bones, and his mind suddenly breaks into an error 404 message.

His body shifts into autopilot and his tongue unsticks from the roof of his mouth, and he can hear himself say, “Okay.” Part of him realises that, that doesn’t make sense, “Yeah.” He manages to add on, and he can see Asriel getting a little more nervous, “I gotta make a call.”

Asriel’s face crumbles, and Sans doesn’t want to think what his expression looks like. He just does the one thing he can do and escape; he short cuts to the living room, close enough that he can hear the other kids in the kitchen, just in case Sans needs to step in…with something.

Just in case Asriel is a homicidal little shit and decides he wants to come out to play again. What happened to Sans, happened, but like hell would he let any one of his kids suffer like that.

He feels himself get weak, his knees tremble and give out from under him. All he can do is lean weakly against the wall at his back, his breathing catching as his chest heaves. He can’t feel his hands as they tremble when he pulls out his cell phone, he can’t feel his face nor the tears that have gathered hotly.

He can barley see when he wakes up his phone, his boney finger tapping against the glass surface and pulling up Lilith’s contact information; the contact photo is of her when she doesn’t know he’s taken a photo of her, her face is soft and her smile crooked. His breathing hitches and hiccups when he calls her, pressing the cold glass against his skull, his hands shaking as he waits for her to pick up.

_Please, Lilith, pick up._

Sans doesn’t know who he’s begging too, who he’s pleading too, but Sans can’t help but feel relieved, that some cosmic power had intervened and gave him this one when Lilith’s cool voice came over the other end of the line, “Hey babe.”

The tension in his soul eased a little, the tight band that wrapped around it loosened, and his gaspy breath was more of a quite sob, “Lilith.”

He can hear her pause, can feel her freeze even over the phone, “Sans what’s wrong?”

He tries to speak, tries to tell her what’s happened but his throat is thick, and the words stick. It’s only garbled non-sense that comes out, half formed words and broken sobs. Lilith’s voice is suddenly his lifeline, “Babe, love, it’s okay. You’re okay Sans.” 

He can hear someone in the background talking to her, asking her what’s going on, but her voice is hard when she snaps at whoever is with her to wait a minute. When she’s back with him, her voice is soft like it always is with him, “Sans, are you hurt? Is anyone hurt?” her monotone voice takes a concerned edge, and he can hear worry bleeding through.

Sans shakes his head no, and he manages to get a few, chocked words out, “No.” his body felt tight and hot, not responding to what he wanted it to do, “Asriel’s here with Frisk.”

How he got that out, Sans didn’t know, but his throat closed off after that and he managed to swallow his sob. He can hear Fuku and Monster Kid chatting, answering questions that Frisk was likely asking, likely keeping them busy. She knew that something upset him, and she was keeping them entertained.

Somewhere deep inside, Sans thanked the kid.

He hears Lilith curse, her voice calling to Saja to call Felix, and her voice is back with him and Sans clings to that, “Baby, it’s okay. You’re okay, just keep breathing. I need you to breath for me Sans. You’re okay.”

Sans tries, taking a deep, shaky breath through his teeth because Lilith had asked him too. She keeps talking, keep saying his name, promises to come home soon, “Sans, it’s okay. I love you; I’m coming home but I’m hours away. It’s okay, Felix is coming, and we’ll call Sloan next, she can go over the kid’s homework. It’s okay Sans, you’re okay, I love you, you’re safe.”

On and on it went, Lilith’s soft, comforting voice right there in his ear. She helped him find his breathing, but he can’t shove down the rising wave of anxiety that’s eating him alive. He wants her home but knows she’s too far to get to him.

But Felix is coming and having his older brother home is almost the next best thing.

It feels like hours before the front door suddenly bangs open, and he can hear Felix struggling to get his winter boots off as he hops into their home.

Sans can almost see it, Felix rushing to find him in their home, stripping off his winter gear as he went, and Sans almost feels guilty. Wherever Felix had been, what ever duty that needed his attention, was being dropped for him.

Because he was scared of one, harmless little kid.

His breathing hitches again, and he squeezes his sockets shut, clutching the phone a little tighter. “Heya kiddos!” Sans can hear Felix’s voice in the other room, it’s high and easy, the battle mage’s façade in full effect. The ever-cheerful Felix, never the one to let anyone see beneath, never to see the crack in the veneer.

Felix would smile merrily even as he ripped your throat out with his teeth, uncaring of who he hurt so long as it wasn’t one of his people.

“How’s your homework going?” not once does his voice falter, and Sans feels his chest loosen. Felix wouldn’t let anything bad happen to his kids.

They were Felix’s kids too.

“Sans? Baby? You with me?” Lilith’s voice sounds small and far away, static over the phone, but it sooths Sans’s soul.

“Yeah, I’m here.” He whispers back, his voice reedy and unsteady. He can hear Felix in the other room, “Felix is here.”

Lilith pauses, and he can hear her sigh with relief, “Good. That’s…good. You’re okay Sans, I’m coming home.” He feels his soul squeeze at that, knowing that she’s abandoning her post for him and that doesn’t feel good. It makes him feel like garbage, and not even fancy garbage. Just garbage.

“N-no. It’s okay. Felix’s here. I-I’m okay.” He managed to chock out, even as his bones rattled.

“Me!” Felix’s voice is soothing to hear, even when he’s loud and rambunctious, “Nah. I can’t help you with your math homework, Sloan can though. She’s on her way.” His voice sounds so far away, and Sans can hear the fridge opening.

“Sans.” Lilith’s voice helps centre him, soothing him even as Felix came into the living room, his smile wide over his shoulder, “I’m coming home.”

“Don’t.” he manages to wheeze out, and as he comes into the living room, Felix’s face falls, and becomes hard. “Don’t come home. You’re needed there, what your doing is important.” He can’t bare to look a Felix, to see his face contorting into hurt at seeing one of his own suffering.

“I’m not as important. I’m not, you need to stay there and help Saja. S-she needs you.” His voice breaks, and he can hear Felix sigh as he drops down next to him, the two glasses of eggnog placed carefully onto the carpet between them.

Lilith pauses, and Sans can hear her grit her teeth, “Sans, you are important. You are so important, more important than all of this, Den comes first.”

Emotions roil hotly in his chest, and his throat closes again, and Felix eases the phone from his fingers. The moment his hands are free, Sans curls into a ball, presses his face into his wrists and tires to wipe his face ineffectively to be rid of the tears.

Felix shifts, careful of the drinks, so that his back is pressed against the wall, putting himself between the doorway and Sans. Putting himself into the line of fire, tucking his injured Den mate into the centre of the pack.

“Hey, I got him.” Felix pulls Sans sideways, and he goes willing against the muscular body at his side. It’s comforting and a little familiar. Felix has a similar build as Lilith, a little denser than her muscles, and Sans melts against him.

The heavy, muscular arm drapes around Sans’s shoulders, pulling him in tight, “Yeah. Yeah, I got him. Nah, they’re busy.” Gold eyes glance to the kitchen, and Felix keeps his voice low, “Sure. Okay. See you in a few hours.”

Felix hangs up the phone and tucks it against the wall and holds Sans quietly while he weeps; Felix shifts so Sans can bury his face into his heavily muscular chest and relaxes when he feels Felix rub his back.

“I got you kiddo.” Felix says softly over his head, and there’s a moment of his voice becoming gravelly as the demon inside trembles, and Felix swallows it back, “Not gonna let them hurt you.”

His breathing hitches, and he clings to his human brother tighter. He’s safe here, safe to be vulnerable, safe to fall apart with Felix watching over him, “Sorry.” He uttered, and Felix snorts.

“Dude. No, stop. Don’t even.” He can feel Felix shake his head against his skull, “Den looks out for each other.” And its true, they are brothers, and it’s weird to be the younger brother for once. It was weird to be the one taken care of, his first job had been to take care of Papyrus, his whole world.

It was nice to have someone to watch out for him, who could watch out for Paps.

Felix shifts to pick up one of the glasses to hand it to him, “Here, drink this.”

Sans does, and nearly chokes on the spicy taste of rum, “Fuck Felix!” his eyes water, but not from hurt and Felix smiles innocently down at him, “How much rum did you put in this?”

The innocence that Felix is able to exude is worrisome, like he’s not some all powerful, blood thirsty mage, “It’s more rum than eggnog.” His smile is disarming, “Just this once.” 

Sans manages to give him a flat look, even as Felix innocently took his own eggnog, likely just as strong and took a mouthful. Rolling his eye-lights, Sans takes another mouthful, ready for the burn of rum.

Sans sighs, and settles back against Felix’s side, rolling the glass between his hands, “Thanks Felix.” He mumbles quietly, eye-lights down cast.

“Any time Sans.” Felix says quietly, glancing down at his hurt, sad face, “Hey, you know, I have an idea.”

Sans knows exactly what Felix was going to suggest, the only thing high LV battle mages would think to suggest when one of their own is left bleeding, “No Felix. We are not killing him.”

Felix huffs, “Well, I’m all out of ideas then.”

Rolling his eye-lights, and settled against his muscular body a little more, “This is fine.” Felix humms and takes another mouthful of his eggnog, “Is Lilith coming home?”

The mage nods slowly, taking another mouthful and sighs, “Yeah, but she and Saja were almost done anyways. Saj’ is gonna finish up so Lilith can come home early. She’ll be here before bedtime.”

The door opens again, and this time it’s Sloan’s voice that calls out to the kids, knowing that Sans was in good hands and handled.

Sans relaxes into Felix and takes another mouthful of his eggnog, “Thank Felix.”

He nods over him and gives him a little squeeze, “Any time bro. I got’cha.”

Sans nodded and leaned into the mage who was just as much his friend as he was his brother.


	6. Naught vs.Nice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans has a great time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: smut, smutty, smut, smut , smut. This is the lemon chapter in the tags.

Crouching back onto the balls of her feet, hands dangling loosely between her bent knees, Lilith licks her lips and smirks at her handy work. It hadn’t been _her_ that had brought this up, oh no, not even a little.

It had been _Sans_ who brought this up, who had very hesitantly, very quietly came to her. Who had been so nervous, had started and stopped several time before he blurted it all out in an emberressed rush what he wanted.

Lilith had blinked blankly at him then, taken back by Sans’s request, before quietly thanking her lucky stars; her Sans, her love, her punny little boyfriend, may be a bit of a _freak_ between the sheets.

She never would have guessed, not in a million year, not a billion. Not with how soft and slow their love life was; they took their time. How vanilla it was, and despite everything Lilith had ever experienced, everything she wanted to share with Sans, no matter what her desires were, Sans needs came first. 

Sans needed soft and loving. Slow and vanilla after what had happened, and Lilith would never push him into something that would hurt him emotionally. Nothing that would scar him, and Lilith, she was fine with that.

She was happy to have Sans in her life, happy to give him what he needed and what he was willing to do in bed. That was honestly fine, they were both happy with it. 

So, it had taken Lilith by surprise when Sans asked her to do this, shocked when he admitted that he _liked_ it when things were a little rougher. He _liked_ it when he surrendered control, especially when he gave it up to someone he trusted.

He admitted, that once upon a time, Muffet had been that person. A friend with benefits long before Oliva, who had treated him right and well, and they _both_ enjoyed.

Lilith isn’t sure of the courage it must have taken him to admit this, that he wanted this. The guts he didn’t have to tell her that he wanted this.

Lilith licks her lips again, hot want low in her body, curling tight in her belly as _want_ pulsed through her.

They had talked, at length, (heh, length) about this. Talked a lot about every aspect of this, they talked about what was okay, what was not. Where Sans wanted to be touched, and where he didn’t want to be touched.

They talked about a safe word, _Punmaster,_ and a signal to stop, _three quick raps of his finger against the chair._

Only when they were both on the same page, both had the same understanding that brought them here.

It was a delight, an absolute delight and it brough a feral sort of smirk to Lilith’s face at the gorgeous sight before her.

Sans, stripped naked, was bound to a chair; his wrists were tied to the wooden arms of the chair with a soft, silky rope, as were his elbows. It immobilized his arms without harming, and Lilith had been very careful to choose a rope that was soft, and one that didn’t feel like vines.

His legs weren’t bound to the chair, but where kept wide with a spreader bar at his skeletal ankles; Sans was sitting back comfortably in the cushioned chair, one chosen to support his spine and provide comfort.

The blindfold over his sockets was, again, soft and the rope that bound it wasn’t abrasive. The impromptu gag was a thick, massive candy cane, it was Christmas after all, that wouldn’t allow Sans to close his teeth. It kept his jaw forced open, the cool minty taste pooling against his tongue to be absorbed into his magic.

His sleek, glossy bones practically glowed against the dark material that bound him, nearly ivory in the light of the moon. Outside their window, it was a cold, December night with a heavy moon and high banks of snow.

In their room, it was dark and warm, and the soft glow of magic at Sans’s pelvic girdle was bright, swirling and unformed against the bone. Leaching heavily with his want from his bones, hypersensitive and begging to be toyed with.

Lilith caught her bottom lip in her teeth, taking a moment to truly enjoy the sight before her, to remember every line of Sans’s body, the way he trembled slightly and arched against his bonds. The way his magic gathered heavily in his pelvic girdle and glowed at his joints before she even touched him.

Fuck, once he conjured whatever he wanted Lilith to play with, she wouldn’t doubt he would already be dripping. The though made her mouth water, she was going to touch him _everywhere_.

Frist things first.

“Sans.” Her voice is low and oddly honeyed for him. Sans lifts his head towards her voice, indicating that he’s listening. “Are the ropes too tight?”

There’s a slow shake of his head no, and his breathing quickens. Lilith nods, pleased.

“Good, are you comfortable?” a nod yes, and his teeth tighten over the candy cane. “Are you ready?” this was met with a whimper, and another, desperate nod yes.

Lilith grins, pushing herself to her feet, she leans over the chair, pressing into his body with hers, ensuring Sans can feel the soft brush of her breasts and the thin lacy bra that he can’t see or touch.

Her warm breath ghosts over his throat softly before she pressed a soft kiss at the bottom of his cervical vertebrae that was followed by a gentle nip. Sans’s breathing hitched and Lilith smirked against the bone before she licked a wet, hot strip down his collar bone.

With one hand bracing up against the chair, the other trailed a ghost of a line with her fingertips down his sternum, “I bet you’d like to see what I’m wearing.” She whispered against his collar bone, her teeth nipping at him again and Sans shivered. “I’m wearing black, see through panties and bra.”

Sans shivered, his voice muffled by the candy cane in his mouth and Lilith smirked. Her hand travelled lower, brushing at his spine. It was true, she was nearly as naked as he was, but the panties where pretty and she liked them.

Lilith had no doubt Sans would like them too, once she allowed him to see.

Sans whimpered as her fingers brushed the tops of his hip, arching as much as he could into her hand, “Oh, such a good boy.” She praised, and Sans shivered, squirming, “So responsive. I bet your dripping when you summon something for me to play with.”

Sans’s cry was muffled when she suddenly plunged her fingers into the softly gathered magic in his pelvis, shivering and hot, and gently moved her fingers. Lilith grinned as the soft, static like feeling of her fingers pressed inside his magic, swirling the unformed mist around her fingers; she knew where he liked to be touched, where he was sensitive while magic was still leaking from his bones.

Pressing her hand a little further into the unformed magic, her nails scratched at the back of his sacrum, pressing her thin fingers into one of his sacral foramen, and Sans’s cry of pleasure was again muffled by the candy cane, “So pretty,” she whispered, “I bet you’d look so good with sacral threading, something pretty to go with your magic.”

Sans’s whole-body jolts, and Lilith knows she struck a chord, that Sans _likes_ the idea.

Good, it’s something they can explore later.

She hums against his bones, her mouth pressed against his collar bone while her fingers play gently in the unformed, hyper-sensitive magic at his pelvis. His body trembles under her touch as pleasure burns through him, and he whimpers around the candy cane.

His body feels hyper-sensitive, jerking at every careful touch, every gentle swirl of unformed magic.

Pulling her hand away, whips of blue magic sticking to her fingers and runs her nails along is spread femurs; Sans groans again, jerking against his bonds as Lilith licks along the candy cane between Sans’s teeth. She sighs into the minty taste, the tip of her tongue dragging gently against Sans’s teeth.

Lilith grins as Sans whimpers, “Love, give me something to play with.”

A shiver runs up Sans’s spine, his moan muffled by the sugary sweet candy, as his body trembles with pleasure and Lilith has only begun to touch him. It takes a moment for him to get his frazzled mind to focus, allowing his magic to take its preferred shape.

Pressing her hand against the chair, Lilith leaned into the wood to look down the length of Sans’s body, grinning at his heavy length, hard and already dripping between his legs. His body shivering when the cool air of their room caressed the hot head of his cock.

“Oh Sans.” Her voice is a throaty whisper, and he can’t see the warmth in her eyes or the shiver down her spine. His bound hands can’t feel the wetness between her legs, or the rising goosebumps over her arms in excitement. He shivers at the thick want in her voice, and Sans swallows the taste of candy again, squirming.

Pushing away from her mate’s vulnerable body, Lilith sinks to her knees, careful not to touch him and give away her position. She wants it to be as much of a surprise as possible, and Lilith bites her lip again at the sight of Sans’s thick cock.

Just below his hardened length is a soft mound of tender magic, soaking and empty, begging to be touched. Sans’s magic is a soft azure, and he whimpers with need, grinding down into the hard surface of the chair to get a little relief.

Lilith bites her lower lip at the sight; Sans is bound and helpless, vulnerable and trusting her to take care of him. Trusting her to not touch him in the _only_ place he asked not to be touched, and she won’t.

Lilith glanced up at Sans with lidded eyes and licks her lips. Sans is shivering over her, squirming and trying to find some friction, even thrusting his hips upward as much as he could, whining when he found no friction.

With a soft sigh, Lilith pressed her hands to his hips to keep him still, smirking up at him when another whine and his muffled complaints came from behind the candy cane.

“You’re so perfect.” she whispered up to him, hot breath ghosting over the head of his cock just before her wet, hot tongue licked a stripe from his root all the way to the head. Sans groaned and again his muffled words were lost behind the sugary treat. 

Lilith grinned at his reaction and gave no warning when she licked the head of his cock before swallowing it down carefully. Sans groaned as she swallowed him down to the root, curling her tongue around him as she drew away; hallowing her cheeks as she sucked hard.

Sans groaned as pleasure filled him, the bounds held him tightly as Lilith’s head dipped back down his cock, swallowing hard. Warm, heady pleasure filled him, coiling tightly as Lilith continued her motion, up and down, down and up.

Her tongue hot on him, teasing and curling, swirling at the head before she swallowed him down again. Sans tries to squirm, ties to grab a hold of something, but can only cling to the arm of the chair helplessly and moan.

Pleasure his hot as it coils in his belly, and all of Sans’s praise and demands of more where muffled by his candy gag; Lilith can feel his cock twitch, can feel the heat in his joints as he’s about to come, and with a smirk Lilith pulls off and clamps a hand tightly around him.

Sans whines and squirms, his begging nothing but muffled noises of despair as she stops him from coming. “Oh love. You didn’t think I’d let you have it that easy, did you?”

Lilith smirks at his muffled whining, no doubt a mixture of pleading and cursing her out, his body shaking with need; she doesn’t let up until he’s calmed a little, before her mouth wraps hotly back around his throbbing cock and _sucks._

Sans whimpers again, and with a smirk, Lilith reaches between her own legs, clever fingers slipping past her panties to press into the soft, tender flesh between her legs. She presses her fingers against her clit, rubbing hard little circles, and her groan vibrates through Sans’s hard cock. It makes him moan as well, so Lilith does it again, taking him down to his root. 

_-_

Sans doesn’t know how long Lilith played with him, and he lost count of how many times she had stopped him from coming after the third time. It may have been six? Seven? Sans didn’t know.

By the time she’d allowed him to come, he was exhausted and frustrated, sweat dripping from every bone as he whined and whimpered. When he finally came, Lilith swallowed down his thick magic quickly, and Sans nearly came again when he heard her lick it from her teeth in loud smacks of her lips.

He’s limp and wrecked by the time Lilith took his blindfold off, and he shivers at her bright crimson eyes and flushed, satisfied face. He doesn’t, or maybe can’t, move his arms or legs when Lilith unties him, and his jaw hurts when she slowly pulls out the gag.

He licks the sugar from his teeth as Lilith reaches up to gently massage the joints at his jaw with a smirk; her hands are soft when she eases him up into her arms and off the chair.

Sans is dazed and satisfied as he’s carried to their bed, groaning when Lilith lay him into the soft folds of their blankets.

Lilith is next to him, still in the see-through panties and bra, but Sans is too exhausted, too out of it to enjoy the view.

Eh, now there’s a reason for a next time.

Taking a warm, damp cloth, she carefully wipes Sans down, cleaning the sweat from his bones gently, even as he trembles at the careful touch.

“You did so well Sans.” Lilith croons softly, the praise making him blush despite everything else, and she grins at his diffused, hazy eye-lights.

Sans groans, quiet and oddly obedient as Lilith cleans him up, all the while talking softly to him, offering encouragement and praise before she gets him to drink a little bit of water and tucks him into bed. She quickly does the same for herself, pulling off her panties and bra, wiping down her sweat soaked skin before snuggling in next to Sans.

Sans came willingly as Lilith pulled him across their mattress, pulling him into a tight hug, softly petting his spine, peppering kisses against his skull.

Sans snuggled into her body, letting his eyes slip shut, arms wrapping around her tightly, “Love you evil mage.” His words were slurred and soft, and he feels Lilith smile against his bones.

“Love you too Sans.” She whispered back, and Sans slipped into a restful, satisfied sleep in the arms of his mate.


	7. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus puts up some Mistletoe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies, 
> 
> This one is a few days late, but as the holidays get closer things get busy. I'm going on vacation from January 2nd to the 9th, so there won't be any posting during that time, but I'm hoping to get the last six chapters of this done before I go. That way I can jump into the last part of this arch in the new year and hopefully start the next larger story by February/March. 
> 
> Also! I have started an Undertale twitter under the handle @FlamesAcid, so come chat Undertale stuff if you'd like! Also, my cats and dog, they'll make appearances I'm sure as well. 
> 
> Cheers friends.

Sitting at the breakfast table, Papyrus listened to another rousing rendition of _Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer_ as Felix and Undyne tried to out do each other and sing over each other. Somehow, and even Papyrus isn’t completely sure how he did it, Felix managed to get Lilith to sing along with them, horrible and offkey but just as loud.

Not to be out done, Undyne got Sloan to sign along with her, just as loud as they tried to sing over each other and quickly two camps became apparent. Frisk was giggling from Alphys’s elbow, gripping onto the sleeve of her white blouse with a wide grin and her raspy laugh.

Papyrus smiled at his odd little family, his little Den, but his white eye-lights glancing to the kitchen where Lola and Ryder are cooking breakfast. They were laughing quietly at each other, and Papyrus felt a pulse of something sad go though his soul; he wanted Ryder to laugh with him, he wanted Ryder to teach him too cook.

Leaning into the table, Papyrus pressed his elbow into the wood, dropping his chin into his hand, drumming his fingers against his teeth. He hummed, eyes narrowing on the massive mage like he was a complicated puzzle. Something that needed to be figured out.

Papyrus wanted to kiss him, that much he was certain, but the mage hadn’t made a move on him and Papyrus couldn’t figure out why. He had been certain that when they had gone snow shoeing that Ryder would have made a move, something, anything!

Yet, no. Nothing. Not even offering to hold Papyrus’s hand, Ryder had literally taken him out into the pretty, snow covered forest to literally just snowshoe, smiling softly when they had chatted about nothing in particular.

Papyrus was certain that Ryder liked him too, there were too many soft looks and _almost_ touching his hand for it to be coincidence but every time Ryder realized what was _almost_ happening, the massive mage would go bright red and sputter before he fled.

Fled he did, one time he literally _ran_ when Ryder realized he had actually grasped Papyrus’s elbow to quietly point out a unicorn with her foal in the forest. She was almost surreal in the sparkling snow, and her soft brown eyes, full of wisdom and gentleness. Papyrus had reached back to Ryder, gripping his hand in awe at the sight of the creature before him, innocent and pure, and Ryder realized what he had done.

He slipped away as Papyrus watched in pure fascination, taken in by the charm of the unicorn, a gentle sort of calm washed over him, and Ryder had crept away when Papyrus had been distracted by the unicorn.

By the time Papyrus turned back to express his wonder, the massive mage was gone, his invisibility solidly in place and leaving not even boot prints in the snow. With slumping shoulders, Papyrus had cursed, earning a snort from the silvery mare in what was surely an agreement. After that, Ryder had kept a careful distance, going so far as to throw Lilith, Felix and even Sans between them.

Tricky, that’s what Ryder was. A tricky little trickster who could disappear quicker than his brother could. The puzzle, truly, was how to pin the mage down.

Papyrus tapped his teeth in thought, not seeing his brother slide up next to him as Sans gave him a little nudge, “Penny for your thoughts bro?”

Papyrus sighed, “My thoughts are worth more then pennies Sans.” He huffed, his voice pitched low and nearly lost to the loudness of the others.

Sans is forced to lean in close to his brother, managing to give him a grin, “Ah, of course they are Paps.” His brother seems bothered by something, upset even, so Sans lets any joke that might have been die in the cradle, “What eat’n ya though?”

Papyrus huffs, still watching Ryder, “Nothing is ‘eating’ me Sans.”

Sans nods, his face the picture of innocence, “Oh, mhmm. Right.” White-eye lights glancing to what Papyrus was staring at and shakes his head, “Then why are you staring all moon eye’d at Ryder?”

That gets Papyrus to turn to glower at him, and honestly the whole thing is hilarious as the rest of their little Den is singing Christmas Carols horribly off key in the background. “Sans,” Papyrus is hesitant to ask, but really, who better to ask how they managed to get a mage to kiss them, “Lilith is, by far way out of your league.” 

The grin at Sans’s face falls, and he manages to give his brother a look, “Wow. Thanks Paps.”

“It’s true.” Papyrus carries on undeterred, “Lilith is tall, cool and driven. She is motivated to get things done. You, and I say this with love Sans, are none of these things. You are small and annoying and nap all the time.”

“Wow dude. Don’t hold back.” Sans deadpans, but there’s a twitch at the corner of his mouth, “And to think, I felt bad for every pun I ever told you. I used to have _bone_ to pick with myself every day and to make sure I picked all the humerus jokes to tell you.”

“Sans, I’m serious.” Papyrus sounds flustered, but there’s a small smile at the corer of his mouth.

“Hi serious, I’m Sans.”

“Oh my god Sans!” Papyrus hisses back at him, but there’s no real heat to his words.

It makes Sans grin, “What? It takes guts to tell jokes like this.”

Huffing at his brother, Papyrus decided to go in for the kill, his voice not changing at all when he asks, “How did you get Lilith to kiss you.”

That causes Sans to stall, his smiling falling a little and his face does a dozen or so micro expressions as his face goes bright blue. He sputters, before his face goes soft and shy, and his smile is crooked, “I dunno Paps. It just sort of…happened.”

Their first kiss had ended in a horrific catastrophe that had damaged every piece of him, his mind, body and soul; an injury he was only now stating to recover from. He didn’t like to think of their first kiss, no. Their second kiss, after he had been rescued and discovered his HoPe was up, when he and Lilith were warm in his old bedroom, was what Sans preferred to think of their first kiss. 

Papyrus sighs, glowering at the table, “Well, you’re not much help here brother.” 

Sans sighs, scratching the back of his skull, his soul dropping. He doesn’t like this thing that he can’t help his brother with, find a way for him to get what he wants.

Papyrus frowns as the singing stops as Lola and Ryder bring in breakfast, putting plates of pancakes, eggs and sausages onto a lazy Suzan for their family to fight over. Lilith, still smirking over at her brother in victory, took her seat next to Sans.

Papyrus watches the soft look cross his brothers face, sees Lilith’s smile become genuine with her affection for Sans and Papyrus doesn’t feel jealous of his brother. He can’t, not after all he suffered for him. 

Felix dropped quickly next to Papyrus, and he can’t help but feel disappointed that it was the battle mage and not the illusionist who dropped next to him, Ryder taking a seat far at the other end of the table next to Undyne.

Tucking into breakfast, the voices of their Den lower to a reasonable level, soft over the playing of Christmas music; that was when Felix leaned over towards Papyrus, his face full of faux innocence that Felix is no longer capable of.

“Ryder likes you.” He suddenly murmurers to Papyrus, cutting into his pancakes as though he hadn’t spoken at all. It startles Papyrus, who sits up a little straighter, his soul pulsing hard beneath his rib cage. “But he’s worse at this emotional shit then I am. Scares him more then it does me.”

Felix shrugs, stuffing pancakes into his mouth, his eyes dark without magic turning them molten gold. Papyrus looks away from the harmless smile that Felix uses to lure enemies into a false sense of security.

Poking at his breakfast, Papyrus frowns, “Right. But. How do I tell Ryder that _I_ also like him, and that I know he likes me?”

Felix humms, swallowing his pancakes, “Oh, he knows you know he knows. You know?” He frowns at the grinning battle mage, Felix can be as irritating as Sans sometimes, must be a brother thing, and he continues, “You want to smooch an illusive illusion mage? Mistletoe.” 

Papyrus frowns, his brow furrowing, “What?”

“Mistletoe.” Felix tells him again, stuffing pancake into his mouth, “’yder ‘ot ‘onna ‘iss ‘ou.” The mage told him through a mouthful of breakfast, making Papyrus cringe.

“Felix, do not talk with food in your mouth.” Papyrus scolded, “It’s rude.”

Rolling his eyes, Felix continued as though Papyrus hadn’t spoken, “You’re gonna have to make a move Paps.” That brought Sans’s sockets to the younger battle mage with a frown, “Ryder’s too nervous and shit.” His head shakes, “A fuck’n bravery soul, and he’s afraid to tell you he likes you.” 

“He think’s he’s not allowed to have nice things.” Lilith chimed in quietly from next to Sans, making Felix snort.

“Like any of us do.” Felix added cheerfully, burying any of the insecurity he may or may not have felt under faux confidence. Lilith nodded in agreement at his statement, and Sans wrapped his hand around her wrist. That softened the look on her face, and Papyrus refused to feel the pang of something in his soul. “Point is. You’ll need to make the move Paps.”

Frowning, Papyrus sighed and pushed his eggs around on his plate with is fork, “But how? Isn’t this a little…entrapment-y?” 

Felix shrugs, tucking back into his breakfast knowing he’s not the lead on morals and the difference between right and wrong.

“Well. He wants to be caught Papyrus.” Lilith said carefully, “It would be different if he wasn’t interested.”

“Right.” Still looking at his plate, Papyrus doesn’t feel as confident as the others, uncertain, “And you’re certain that he likes me. Like that?” _That he wouldn’t be disgusted by kissing a monster._

“Well,” its Sans who speaks first, just as unconcerned as he had been telling jokes, “Ryder has been staring at you since he sat down.”

Papyrus’s eye-lights jump to where the mage is sitting, catching Ryder staring with deep, soft blue eyes. His pale skin suddenly burns bright like a bulb as a deep red blush sears across his face and down his throat. Ryder’s red face suddenly shoots down to his plate, focusing far too intently on the food on is plate, thoroughly ignoring anyone else in the room.

The sudden action making Papyrus grin, his soul warming at the sight, and he wondered what it would taste like to kiss that pretty scarlet blush down Ryder’s throat. The thought brough a splash of orange across his own cheek bones, and he quickly dropped his own eyes to his own plate.

“Exactly.” Felix told him, his smirk audible in his voice, “Now listen Paps, here’s the thing. The second Ryder figures out what your doing, he’s gonna run.”

Lilith nodded in agreement, and Sans still has her by the wrist, “He will. He’ll press his magic outwards and coat himself in an invisibility illusion and be gone.” She turned to look at Papyrus with dark, cold eyes but the up tick of her mouth was enough for Papyrus to see the mischievousness that Sans loved about her, “So hang on tight once you catch him.” 

Papyrus humms, his finger tapping at his teeth, his breakfast all but forgotten. Ryder was a puzzle, a tricky, tricksy puzzle.

A puzzle, yes, but Papyrus had help. His permi-grin ticked upwards, and Papyrus began to puzzle over his current predicament.

-

Frowning down at the report, Ryder walked through the too quiet halls of his home, coming from the home office to the kitchen for more coffee. The reports were on the amount of snow gathering at the other side of their boarder, and the mayor of Hollindale was complaining that the snow drifts were getting too high.

Ryder rolled his eyes, forcing down the irritation that sparked at the core of his body at the audacity of the neighbouring town; they wanted Sloan to magic the snow away rather then pay for plows to come and remove it. They didn’t want to pay Sloan either, of course, but demanded that she do it.

Irritation rankled when he thought of last winter, when Lola had offered to go to their hospital and heal the sick from a nasty flu making the rounds, one that was killing the young and old, and had been soundly rejected under religious reasons. Agitation gnawed when he thought of the last time Lilith went to defend the town from a wrathe, saving hundreds, only to catch two bullets to the chest from one of the citizens for her daring to come into their town and use magic around ‘decent’ folk. 

For true, real life emergencies, they reacted with hostility. Actively hated the mages, aggressively tried to strip the rights of the monsters away, but for an inconvenience that could easily be managed without magic they were suddenly demanding action.

Yeah, the town of Hollindale could suck it. 

Frowning at the report, Ryder only needed to find a way to write all that down in a polite, professional response. Which is why Sloan had asked _him_ to write up their response and not Lilith or Felix. 

So absorbed in his report, Ryder didn’t realize that no one else was home, not on a conscious level.

He knew that Lola had taken Frisk snowshoeing that morning. Knew that Lilith and Sans were out getting coffee at their favorite café and would probably come back with French Macaroons.

He knew that Sloan and Felix were out visiting another town within their territory with Saja, a little fae settlement that was having trouble keeping the snow low enough for them to get around. He knew that Undyne and Alphys were at some science thing, something with machines or something.

What never occurred to Ryder was that his entire Den was out of the house, all at the same time, leaving him alone with Papyrus. Too absorbed in the report for the Hollindale mayor to realize he was home alone with his crush, too distracted to be flustered by that fact.

He was too preoccupied to realize this was a trap.

Coming into the kitchen, still glowering down at the report, Ryder doesn’t see the ambush coming, “RYDER!” the mage paused, looked up and turned towards the monster.

A hesitant, shy smile quirked at the corner of Ryder’s scared mouth, “Oh, Papyrus.” His accent makes Papyrus shiver a little, liking the sound of his name rolling off his tongue, “I didn’t realize anyone else was home.” His accent making even the simplest of things sound almost _dangerous._ Exciting. 

Papyrus nods, suddenly looking nervous as he approaches the large mage, “YES, I AM.” He clears his throat, before lowering his voice, “I, ah. There’s something I need to show you.”

Ryder stands up a little straighter, the smile dropping as his face became serious and ready to help in anyway, he could. Ready to fight off any threat, “Of course Papyrus. Is everything alright?”

Papyrus gives him a hesitant smile, his soul warming at the concern in Ryder’s voice as he takes sure, even steps towards the large mage, “Oh yes, everything is fine.” When he was almost toe to toe, he pointed upward with a long skeletal finger. Blue eyes followed Papyrus’s finger, head tilting upwards to look at the top of the door, frowning at what he saw carefully taped to the wood.

His brow furrowed and Ryder’s mouth pulled into a frown, “Is that mistletoe?” he asked, confusion thick in his tone, not understanding why a sprig of mistletoe suddenly appeared in their doorway. It wasn’t part of the usual décor when they made their home up for Christmas.

“It…it is.” Papyrus sounds nervous as he steps forward, pushing up onto the balls of his feet and grasps Ryder by his massive shoulders.

He felt Ryder stiffen, felt tension coiled tightly through his body as Papyrus leaned forward and pressed his teeth against Ryder’s parted mouth.

The mage gasped into the soft, chaste kiss, his eyes going wide as Papyrus’s slid shut. There’s a brief, awkward moment when Ryder is still and stiff, and Papyrus is terrified that he’s going to shove him away and end this in embarrassment.

Slowly, at a glaciers pace, Ryder loosens under Papyrus’s hands; his massive body becoming lax and his muscles relaxing, going soft. Magic flushes through the mage’s body, orange filling his eyes as they slip shut. Slowly, trembling hands drop the forgotten report before lifting to cup Papyrus’s chin softly, and his mouth begins to slowly move against Papyrus’s teeth.

It was slow and soft, and as Ryder parted his teeth, Papyrus’s tongue slipped between to taste his magic, to taste the boldness of a bravery soul; with a sigh, Papyrus shoved him hard, backing Ryder up into the kitchen and against a wall. The mage went willingly, kissing back with more vigour, groaning when Papyrus pressed his large body into the wall.

There was a flush of excitement, of having power over the massive mage who went so willingly, so obediently. Papyrus pressed his massive body into the wall, and one hand lifted to bury his fingers into Ryder’s short hair at the back of his head.

They part only for Ryder to take a breath of fresh air, and they share a breath and a soft smile.

The mage is breathless, and his smile a little brighter, “The mistletoe is new.”

Papyrus smiles back at him, “Do you like it?”

Ryder nodded, his eyes bright, “Yeah, I really do.”

Their mouths met again, soft and hot, the report forgotten on the floor and they were lost in the soft kiss.


	8. Christmas Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, there's nothing to say to help ease the sting of a hurt. Sometimes, all you need to do is listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Smoking and an off screen death of OCs.
> 
> Also! I have a new Fandom oriented twitter, mostly undertale. If you want, come chat with me at @FlamesAcid :)

It was one of the odd nights when the whole Den was home, when even the battle mages were there for supper; as Christmas came steadily closer, they were spending more and more time at home, only dispatching the mages far when it was absolutely necessary.

Sans came down the stairs from their quarters, _bedrooms_ , smiling softly as he looked into the kitchen where his family was playing poker. Frisk in Sloan’s lap, helping her win Sans was sure, while Lilith sat next to them, surely cheating if the too blank look on her face was anything to go by. The grin on his brother’s face meant he was definitely cheating and getting away with it, and Ryder was frowning deeply at his cards, likely the only one _not_ cheating.

Bless his bravery soul.

Sans’s cards were laying face down next to Lola, the only one he trusted to not take a peek and the only one who wouldn’t let the others peek, but she was clearly counting cards. The piles of chips in front of her were a testament to how good she was, swooping even Sans again and again.

The only one not home was Felix, who had managed to score a date with a cute, muscular mage from another Den, that apparently had a strong chiselled chin and a barrel chest. Lilith had rolled her eyes hard when Felix had leaned over, excited and pleased, his voice in a mock whisper when he told them he was going to climb that hot, tall mage like a tree and shake him. 

Sans had grinned, wide and amused, asking Felix what sorts of things he planned to do with Mr. tall, dark and handsome, but any chance of embarrassment was quickly thwarted by Lilith clamping her hand over her brother’s mouth to silence him.

Eh, well, embarrassing sex talks can wait for another opportunity. No doubt Felix would give him one.

For now, Sans had a title to reclaim, and his cards were still unmolested on the table. Swinging around the banister, hands stuffed into his pockets, Sans began to meander back to the kitchen when something outside of the window caught the corner of his eye. It was there, and gone in the blink of an eye, the flash of something small and orange, disappearing back into the inky black night.

Frowning, Sans slowed his steps, coming to a stop just before their front door, squinting into the darkness. He stood there, listening to the pleasant chatter of his family from the warm kitchen, the soft orange light beckoning him back to their fold. He could go back, sit nestled safety between Lilith and Lola and ignore what ever that was.

The flash of orange shone again before disappearing to the night, and Sans frowned at where it was coming from. He glanced to the kitchen, saw Lilith at ease surrounded by her brother and sisters, and not at all on edge. Battle mage instinct was tied to their magic, an early warning system that was better than his in terms of sensing intent, and it was a powerful thing. So, if Lilith wasn’t tense and reading for a fight, the glow outside their door wasn’t a threat.

It wasn’t like the fog from October, there was nothing dangerous out in the dark that was eons old that liked his shitty jokes.

So, the hell was it?

Sans canted his head, frowning as the glow reappeared and faded again into the darkness. It took Sans a moment to realize it was the cherry of a cigarette, flashing in the darkness as someone puffed on it.

His frown deepening, Sans glanced to the others, warm and safe at the table, not expecting a thing, knowing that Felix wouldn’t be home until morning. Yet, no one else had the codes to get past the gate, no one else had the magical keys to slip past the shields and spells around their property to get this close to the compound. Only family could, and only family could invite you in.

No matter Felix’s escapades, he never brough any of his conquests home. No matter what Den or Coven they came from, not if they were man or a woman, that didn’t matter. Not with Frisk too vulnerable, a child who couldn’t defend herself if one of Felix’s one-night stands turned out to be using him to get to a valuable time mage.

Felix didn’t invite his dates home, and with a furrowing brow, Sans realized that if Felix was home this early his date hadn’t gone well.

Again.

Sighing softly, Sans wondered if he should get Sloan to call Liam in case this ended in property damage again. Well, better to see what sort of damage control he needed to do before ruining the other’s nights, and quietly abandoned the game. 

Kicking off his pink slippers, Sans shoved his feet into his black sneakers, white laces dragging behind him as he shortcutted outside so the others wouldn’t hear the door open and close.

It was cold outside, nearly as cold as it had been in Snowdin, but Sans was used to it. Even in his blue hoodie and black shorts, the cold didn’t bother him. 

Bright blue-white lights twinkled merrily from above his head like small stars and garland was wrapped around the banisters in careful, measure spaces. It was like a scene from a Christmas movie, the house made up, snow carefully piled up around the cleared walkway and a lop-sided snowman sat crooked in their yard.

He and Felix had helped Frisk build it earlier that day, Felix helping roll the balls of snow large enough that the snowman was nearly as tall as Felix himself.

Sans ignored it all, his breath catching in the cold in a plume of white and he crossed the walkway to the driveway, and to where Felix sat on the hood of his yellow Jeep. He was smoking hard and staring up at the soft lights that ringed the building.

Sans sighed, his grin pulling into a frown and he slowly padded his way to the Jeep, using the grill to pull himself up to sit next to the battle mage, his feet kicking out before hooking around the black metal of the grill. Felix didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at Sans, even when the metal of the hood caved in a little under their joined weight.

Glancing up at Felix, Sans looked away and to the twinkling lights with a frown. A pack of cigarettes, half smoked already sat between them, a crumped empty pack at their feet, a true indication as to what sort of state of mind Felix was really in.

Quietly, Sans reached for the half pack, without a word, nicked one and the lighter, all the while Felix didn’t scold him for stealing one of his cigarettes. Putting the smoke between his teeth, Sans lit it and took a deep drag, allowing the burn of nicotine to fill his rib cage, smoke pooling from his sockets.

“Thought you quit.” Felix rumbled unhappily from next to him, voice deeper as the demon rode him hard.

Sans shrugged, taking another drag, “Work in progress.”

Felix nodded, staring but unseeing at the house, “Lilith has no idea what it does to your HP does she?” 

Sans snorted, “Nah, I thought it best not to upset her with things like that.”

Felix made a noise at the back of his throat, “She’d make us both quit if she knew.” His voice is low, that frightening rumble still there, gravelly and hinting at violence.

Sans forces himself to relax and nods. He knows that Felix won’t hurt him, no, he’s Den, his safety comes first. Sans frowns, staring at the cherry of his own cigarette. Sans’s safety, the safety of the others would come before Felix’s safety. Before Felix’s happiness.

“You okay?” Sans asks softly, and Felix curls into himself, his shoulder bunching up around his ears.

“I’m not hurt.” His voice is softer now that they’re talking about him, but it’s a good sign that Felix hasn’t told him to leave.

Sans nods, turning back to the house to watch the lights, “Not what I asked.” He said lightly.

He can feel Felix’s eyes on him suddenly, molten gold with magic, full of anger and hurt. His magic prickles along his bones, and Sans forces himself to remain loose and relaxed. Felix wouldn’t hurt him.

He wouldn’t.

Slowly, Felix relaxes a little. Still curled up like an angry cat, but the hostility has dissipated, “’M fine.”

He can see Felix shake his head, likely the demon bound to his soul is talking to him and the mage is disagreeing.

“Right.” Sans says slowly, white eye lights glancing to his Den mate, looking for any sign of blood or magic, his or his dates. Yet, beyond seeming a little rumbled, Felix appears unharmed, “Wanna come in then? We’re playing poke and someone needs to beat Lola.”

Felix takes the last drag of his smoke hard, finishing it off. He drops the butt onto the driveway with the others that he’s finished, and immediately fishes for another one from the pack, stealing the lighter back from Sans, “Nah. Not in the mood to play poker.” He lights it and takes a hard drag, “besides, no one can beat Lola.”

Sans frowns, taking another soft drag, exhaling softly before he asks, “What happened Felix?”

Gold eyes tilt up to him, and Felix frowns deeply at him. There’s something wrong with him, his eyes are too wet and he’s blinking too hard now that he’s facing Sans. There’s a look of hurt that’s there and gone in the blink of an eye, and Felix looks away from Sans before he answers.

“He didn’t like me.” Felix says simply, flicking the ash from his smoke.

Sans paused and frowned. That wasn’t the first time that this has happened, unfortunately. Even before monsters had come to the surface, Felix had a streak of bad luck, of his dates either only wanting sex based on his reputation, one that Felix was more then pleased to feed the rumor mill; or they wanted to cleanse his soul of the demon that was bound to him.

Yet, Felix never let it bother him when these things happened. If anything, Felix thought it funny when another mage made a play on his life, another weird notch under his belt every time someone tried.

Felix didn’t get _sad_ or _hurt_ when someone tried to kill him; this was different, this was out of character. Something else happened.

Sans frowned, the pricking feeling coming back as worry began to curl tightly around his soul, “Felix, what happened?”

He’s quiet for a long time, smoking hard as his body coils tightly in anger and when he does finally speak, it’s with an edge of violence to his tone, “He didn’t want me.” He laughs bitterly, “Fuck, he didn’t even want my body. He wanted my help.” Felix swallows hard, and Sans can hear his throat working, “I could have dealt if only wanted that. No one ever comes seeking my help, they go to Lilith or Sloan or Lola if they want help. Not me.”

Something shifts in Sans’s soul, something unsettles as Felix keeps going, “I wish he only wanted my body.” He sounds wistful.

“What did he want Felix?” Sans askes softly, afraid to speak too harshly, causing Felix to clam up.

Felix sighed, and licked his teeth, “He asked me if I would help him,” He said slowly, “eradicate the monsters.”

Something cold filled Sans’s soul, dread sitting heavily in his non-existent guts as Felix kept talking, “I told him to get the fuck out of my territory and to not come back. He told me that they needed my help, that they needed an inside man to help them do it. That I was clearly the best choice for the job, and it was my duty to help.”

Felix shook his head even as Sans remained frozen next to him, “He was a threat. So, I told him okay.”

Sans remained frozen, knowing, with his entire soul, that Felix would not betray them. Not Felix, his adopted older brother, Lilith’s Den mate. He wouldn’t, Felix was loyal to a fault to the Den.

“He was so pleased, he kissed me. It was fucking…” Felix paused, looking revolted with himself. “I let him kiss me, and it was fucking disgusting. He wanted me to help him destroy my family, and I let him touch me.” He shook his head at himself, and suddenly Sans can feel the self hatred rolling off him, “He wasn’t working alone. He took me out to where his Den was staying, just inside Ebott here. His entire Den, there was like a dozen of them.”

His head shakes again, he huffs hard and the white puff is his warm breath in the cold air. Running a hand through his messy Mohawk, Felix sighs deeply, speaking softly in his mothers, native language and Sans knows just enough Egyptian Arabic to know he’s cursing.

“I killed them all.” Felix says at last; his hands tremble a little, likely still riding the killing edge hard enough to still taste blood lust. “Each and every one of them. Dumped their bodies in the Nether.”

Sans isn’t surprised and he’s not frightened by the admission. Mages were violent, especially battle mages with high LV. Quietly, Sans takes another drag of his smoke, letting the acidic smoke burn at his ribs.

“My fucking LV went up.” Felix laughs bitterly, looking back up at the happy flash of lights and Sans can see the vulnerability on his face in the bright blue-white light, “We’re supposed to be a fucking peace and here I am still gathering LV.” 

Sans felt something in his chest shift unhappily, squeezing at his soul. Felix had killed for them to keep them safe and now he paid the price for it. His newly acquired LV and vice where riding him hard, and likely even the demon was trying to talk him back from the edge.

They need to tell the others; Sans knows that Lilith and Sloan are both a solid 19 and can help their little brother though the next hard hours as his body adjust to the new level of violence.

Yet, Felix keeps talking, in a low, hushed voice like he’s ashamed of what comes out of his mouth next, “Why doesn’t anyone just like me?” he asks, and Sans doesn’t know if he’s talking to himself, the demon or him. “Why is there always an ulterior motive?

His voice warbles, and that draws Sans’s eye-lights up faster then anything else. It’s a rare thing for Felix to be this upset, to allow his emotion to get he better of him and actually let anyone see the hurt underneath it all.

“And why the _hell_ would they pick me? I’m not a traitor, I would never do anything to hurt my Den. And yet,” he trails off, taking another deep drag of his cigarette, scrubbing at his face with the back of his hand.

Pausing, Sans finishes his smoke and drops the butt with the others on the ground before shifting over to he’s pressed into Felix’s side. He’s tenses, coiled tight and readying for a fight that has long since passed, and hurting somewhere deep inside.

A skeletal arm wraps slowly around his waist, squeezing him lightly, as the trembling starts to work its way up from Felix’s hands to his arms.

“What’s wrong with me that no one wants to just be with me? What’s wrong with me, that they would pick me to betray my Den?”

Nothing, there’s nothing wrong with Felix, and Sans can’t help but think that Felix’s date made a poor choice in the mage he picked for his kind of mission. Not that any of the Den would have joined in, but Felix was a battle mage, born and bred to defend the Den and Coven.

There was nothing to say, nothing to ease the hurt that bruised Felix’s soul. They’d have to tell the rest of the Den, soon, before the Coven of the dead mage’s figured out they weren’t coming home; but that could wait a little longer.

Right now, as Felix hunched further in on himself, feeling low and worthless, Sans was going to hug the mage until he felt a little better. 

There was nothing else he could do, no magic words to make this bitter truth sting a little less. Slowly, Felix leaned into the sideways hug, still crunched inward and tight as Sans rubbed his back.

Soft snow began to fall, fat and heavy flakes that hid the wetness on Felix’s face, and if some fell down his chin, Sans never said anything about it. 


	9. Skating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans enjoys some time out on the frozen lake and teaches Lola to skate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff! It's Christmas after all! 
> 
> Or, late Christmas at least. 
> 
> Follow me on twitter at @FlamesAcid if you want to chat Undertale or fandom :)

When the lake had frozen over, the first thing Frisk had wanted to do had been the only thing she wanted to do for the next foreseeable future. It hadn’t taken much persuasion to get her family to come out onto the ice with her, spending quality time skating and playing on the ice. Rounds of hockey had been quickly set up, and in invitation to play with them had been put out to the Dens that were close to their territory. 

None of them responded, same Coven or not.

The Pandora Den didn’t take offense, most of the other Dens avoided them in any case and Lilith had messaged Saja anyways to see if her Valkyrie Coven wanted to play instead. That, Sans thought to himself with a grin, would be a good game if the Valks came out to play. 

Sans grinned, watching as Undyne clung to both of Ryder’s massive hands as the mage skated backwards in smooth, easy strides, not once letting go of her hands. Undyne, who had never learned to skate in Waterfall, looked uncomfortable and annoyed, but refused to be beat by the ice and was determined to learn to skate.

Alphys, clinging to Felix’s hands, surprisingly caught on a little quicker than her girlfriend. Already Felix had let go of one of her hands, skating side by side in smooth, even motions as Frisk and Papyrus raced around the ring of the lake. 

Grinning, Sans skated across the glassy surface in slow, lazy glides; no reason to hurry along. Lilith, full of energy and LV, couldn’t contain herself to his speed, and was flying around the lake with Sloan like they were on a racetrack, pushing themselves as hard as the could. 

They would call out spins and tricks to each other, seeing who could jump the highest, to spin the longest.

Their competition was in good sprits, and so long as it stayed friendly, Sans was more then happy to let them duke it out over who was the better skater. So long as it didn’t take a Mario Kart turn, Sans was fine with it all. 

Circling the rink, Sans frowned when he saw Lola still sitting at the bench, the warm thermoses of hot chocolate still nestled in the backpack at her side.

Odd, when they where all playing together it was rare for any of them to sit out, rarer still for the one to sit out to be Lola. The kindness soul shield mage was always the first to join in, in all family activities, her happiness coming from the happiness of her Den mates. She was the ‘mom friend’, or at least that’s what Felix called her.

Sans gave a quick glance around, made sure that no one was watching him; he didn’t want anyone to see him put this much effort into something and get the wrong idea about his skating ability before he quickly pulled a tight turn, using a crossover to swing back around towards Lola.

Sure, he could have shortcutted, but where was the fun in being sneaky if he didn’t deploy it sometimes.

He had slowed down by the time he glided effortlessly up to Lola, stepping easily onto the snowbank and did the awkward walk on skates to the bench she was sitting on. Sans dropped down beside her, leaning back against the upper part of the metal bench to perch his elbows up high so he could lounge back with his feet out.

Lola’s dark eyes glanced at him, her smile a little smaller then he would typically see from her before her attention turned back to the others skating, “Tired Sans?” she asked lightly, “Want some hot chocolate?”

Sans grinned, shaking his head no at her offer, “Nah, thanks Lols.” He titled his head at her, watching her watch the others, “Don’t wanna skate?”

Lola startled, body tensing, and her face went red, her fingers twining nervously as her spine went ram rod straight. Her usually soft face hardened, and her eyes avoided him. Embarrassment filled her soft features briefly before she controlled them and that soft, happy front was forced up.

It made Sans sad to see that response, that someone had made her feel bad about herself, made her feel self conscious.

“No thank you.” She said slowly, with a polished politeness that was her go to when she was uncomfortable. It was the same as the icy cold that Lilith oozed and the faux innocence that Felix used when they were uncertain.

“Oh?” he probed lightly, giving her his best disarming smile.

Lola squirmed, watching her family skating and doing it well, and her mouth pulled into a frown. Tucking her black hair behind her ear, she heaved a sigh, “I don’t know how to skate Sans.”

Sans paused, frowning at her, eye-lights glancing to where the warriors were skating, then back to the shield of the family, “Okay.” He said awkwardly, “Yeah. Okay, that’s not weird.”

They had only done several tours during the war in the north, it’s not like she hadn’t had the opportunity to learn.

Lola sighed and there’s a spark of magic that make her usually soft brown eyes flash emerald with magic before she muttered something in Mandarin, “Yes, it is.” She says firmly to him with a frown, “We only spent a good chunk of the war in the north.”

Heavily a sigh, the mage leaned forward so that she pressed her elbows into her knees, going back to watching her family skate, “It’s not like the offer hasn’t been there. It has! It’s just…” she watches them wistfully, “during the war our Den was obliterated by,” her voice choked, “By Lilith’s mother. All that was left was Lilith, Sloan and I, Ryder and Felix came later. So. So our Den was small. Smaller than all the others when we were old enough to be sent to the front, and well. In social times, Dens tend to stick together.”

She glanced to Sans and sighed, her fingers fidgeting nervously, “But, Sloan, Lilith and Felix were often sent to the front, Ryder behind enemy lines. In the beginning, they went without me. I’m a shield maiden with the healing trait. I was more useful to guard the base and treat the injured, it didn’t make sense to send me.”

She frowned, and something dark and violent flashes through her eyes, “I was left with Dens of shield mages and healers, who were all Den mates and knew each other since childhood. I was raised by battle mages, tougher, hardier than the typical Shield mage or healer. They’re delicate, soft and I’m not.” Sans disagreed, but maybe that it was only that Lola was soft _in comparison_ to her brothers and sisters, “So I didn’t fit it. Sloan, Lilith and Felix fit in with the Valkyrie and that’s who taught them to skate when it was faster to use the frozen water ways to travel. They had no choice but to get good fast.”

There’s another single shoulder shrug, “It was only after Sloan almost died when they had been caught on a water way, and she almost drown. There hadn’t been a healer with them, and she had given her healing potions to mages who where more injured from the attack. I’m surprised that hypothermia, frost bite or the internal bleeding didn’t kill her, it almost did. After that, I demanded to join my Den mates on the front, and honestly no one argued or was sad when I went out with them.”

She shrugged again, “They expected me to die, and didn’t care if I did. I was my Den’s problem now. But, by that time, we were being pulled from the north and being shipped south, following the worse of the fighting, and the time never presented itself.”

Sans frowned, head tilting the other way, not liking seeing one of the mages upset and hurt over their past. It wasn’t like any of them had a stellar childhood, and he just didn’t like seeing one of his people sad or hurt.

“You know,” Sans finds himself saying slowly, because this was something he could actually fix, “I could teach you.”

That makes Lola pause, glancing over to him with a frown, scratching at her upper arm, “I dunno Sans. It’s not like the others haven’t offered to teach me.” She glances to the ice nervously.

Sans makes himself grin a little wider, flashing the faux innocence he’s starting to pick up from Felix, “Then why not?”

Hesitating, Lola glanced away to her fiercer Den mates, her brothers and sisters, kills all of them and sighs, “I dunno Sans. It’s what they do together. I wasn’t there when they learned?”

It’s a soft admission of truth and it make’s Sans permi-grin falter a little, “Lola.” He almost sounds like the adult in the situation, almost like he’s on the verge of scolding her. His tone makes her deflate a little, and the splash of red colors her features, “They’d love it if you came to play with them.” His soul pulsed hard in his chest, he was patient enough to teach her, it was the right thing to do. To put her onto an even playing field with the other.

 _Patience and Justice._ That’s what made up _Sans’s_ soul.

Sans pushed himself to his feet, turning and held out his hand with a cheeky grin, “Come on kiddo, it’s an _ice_ day out.” That brought a flicker of a smile, “I’m willing to _blade_ that you’ll have some fun with us.” He put his hand over his soul, “I promise, I won’t even let you fall.” He gave her a wink, “And I didn’t even make Lilith that promise, but she did _fall_ for me. Total accident.”

Lola snorts, her eyes flashing as she slowly stood up and nervously stepped away from the bench. Her booted foot hit the ice, her center of balance shifted awkwardly, and her feet slid out from under her body. Lola tries hard to make a liar out of Sans, taking a nosedive into the ice, making his soul shutter and stop in panic, when he caught her with blue magic, slowly righting her.

Her face goes bright red, from her hair line and down her throat, as Sans steadies her with his magic, shaking his head with a sigh. He gives her a shaky smile, still hanging onto her soul with his magic, even as her feet try _desperately_ to go in different directions, “Didn’t know I had that reaction to mages.” He tells her cheekily, trying to distract her from focusing too much on her boots.

Her hands flail as she tries to find her balance, landing hard on Sans’s shoulders so that she can get her feet steady and still under her; it helps they are the same height, and he’s not towering over her. It also helps that she’s the lightest of all the mages, and her weight doesn’t drag him down with her.

“S-sorry.” She mutter’s, face red even as her knees shake, her voice small, “The ice isn’t my friend.”

Any sarcastic remark is swallowed back, because no shit Lola.

Instead, Sans grins at her, doesn’t poke at her insecurities and keeps a solid grip on her soul, “So’kay.” Carefully he takes her hand from her shoulder, his control hand still lifted to hold her gently, “Why don’t we get you used to feeling ice under your boots before we put on skates?”

Lola nods, moving with him as he walks backwards slowly over the snowbank and onto the ice. Her knees are trembling, and her hands on him tighten as she plants her boots onto the smooth, glass like ice.

Only when she steady does Sans start to move, slowly and carefully backwards, pulling Lola along with him. She tenses, expecting to topple, and when she doesn’t, she gives a shaky laugh as she slides across the slippery surface.

Lilith and Sloan glide by, and he catches his mate’s eyes; she gives him a sweet smile and a quick wink which is quickly returned.

Her face tinges red and then she’s gone off racing with her sister leaving Sans to give Lola his undivided attention.

“I got ya kiddo.” He reassures her, and Lola gives him a nervous laugh and nod, “I taught Paps to skate. Most of the kids in Snowdin too, I can teach ya.”

Lola nods, her knees stop shaking as finds a little confidence, and trusts in Sans to keep his promise.


	10. Snowball Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans and Lilith lead their Den mates into a trap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluffy Christmas fluff. Two more chapters and this ones done. After this, one more slice of life fic to help build up the bonds between Lilith and Sans, and the Den before we move onto the next arc of this story. 
> 
> Follow me on Twitter if you want to chat Undertale or fandom in general at @AcidFlames

Sans stretched in his seat in Lilith's Jeep; a good stretch from a good nap while they came back from their favorite cafe in Ebott.

A full body stretch, arms over head, legs pushed out straight with a groan and a pop of his spine.

The kind of stretch that had a soul deep satisfaction, that left Sans feeling good. The kind of stretch accompanied with a groan that drew Lilith's dark eyes to him with a soft, pleased smile. She would lean over to him, all soft and pliable, her hand gently cupping his chin to press a kiss to his mouth.

Sans sighs into the kiss; she still tastes like coffee from the shop, rich and sweet from the sugar she put into it. He can feel the magic in her skin brushing at his bones, a soft buzz like touching the screen of an old TV.

Their kiss breaks and Sand grins at her as well; she's been happier these last few weeks, happier than she was underground and the constant threat of death. Happier that he's here with her.

If Sans is honest, he's happy too. He fought, and suffered, so much to get here, he's not foolish enough to squander the chance.

"So, what plans do we have for today?" Her voice is its usual monotone, but Sans can see the happiness in her eyes, and it makes his soul sing.

He grins back at her; it's snowing outside the Jeep, in fat flakes that drop slowly to the ground, and it just feels a little more like Gyftmas, "Could always watch a movie."

Movies meant warm blankets and close quarters. Movies meant cuddling and touching, and Sans was never one to say no to physical affection, not from Lilith at any rate. If he plays his cards right, and he could nap the rest of the morning away in Lilith's warm lap while she caressed his bones.

Something in her eyes brightens, and Sans knows she likes the idea, "Alright." Her voice is a little softer for him.

A quiet afternoon awaits them, and with a grin, Sans hops out of the Jeep the same time Lilith does. They don't have groceries to pick up, nothing to hold them down or stopping them from playing in the snow.

Or anything to stop others from getting them to play in the snow.

Lilith is just closing the door to her Jeep when Sans sees her freeze, her whole body going still and crimson magic dances over her skin before she goes loose.

Crimson floods her eyes, and Sans stills, his own magic sparking at his fingers; he doesn't question battle mage instinct, not anymore. Not since they were underground, and they had nothing else to rely on, but from what Sans has put together, part of it is the ability to sense intent. So, if Lilith was spooked, there was a reason to be spooked.

Her voice is hard when she finally says, "Sans get down." There's an edge to her voice that has him complying, getting low on the other side of the Jeep.

Lilith turns, narrowed eyes scanning the area around them as magic floods the ground beneath her feet in preparation for an attack. They both sense movement to their left, further ratcheting up Lilith's concern. Her hands curl into firsts as she slowly steps away from the Jeep, and Sans can see her swords part way summoned.

There's a noise to their right, and more movement to the left that has Lilith gasping and dancing out of the way as two snowballs splat wetly against the side of her Jeep; there’s a moment of shock as their world quickly recalibrates and they take in someone stalking them not as a threat, but in a playful light. A family member enticing them to play in a way that only battle mages can.

Lilith doesn’t hesitate, she looks over to Sans quickly, turning to magic and dust to trace to where Sans has crouched down behind the Jeep. Dropping to her knees, they share a smirk, and Sans feels a pulse of excitement bolt through him and something akin to adrenaline makes his cracked soul swell.

Lilith’s smirk is sharp despite her small, blunt teeth, and Sans thinks she looks like a wolf as a bright delight dances through her eyes. Sans grins back, just as sharp, like a shark; they’ve been waiting for this very moment since the first day it snowed.

Lilith knows her family, knows that _eventually_ one oft hem would try to ambush them.

“Okay love,” there’s an excitement note in her tone, and her eyes sparkle that makes Sans feel soft and loving, “You remember what to do?” soft despite what they’re about to do.

“Oooh yeah,” he grins, “They’ll never see it coming.”

Lilith nods and leans forward to press a quick kiss that Sans greedily takes like a drowning man being thrown a life raft.

“Okay, I’ll see you in the woods.” Sans nods, grinning so wide his face hurts and he crouches down lower as Lilith turns towards the woods.

“Good luck evil mage.” He sign-songs cheekily to her, and with one last quick smirk, Lilith is gone, sprinting into the woods as fast as sha can go. She’s over logs and fallen trees, through brush in the blink of an eye, running as hard as she can, tracing only enough to stay ahead of her so-called attackers. 

Sans crouches down lower, quiet and unsuspecting; he wants to know who his prey is, it’ll help when Lilith brings them around. It’ll help with his aim to know how tall they are, it’ll help with knowing where they’ll come from to know how they think.

He grins when he hears his brother’s deep laugh and sees Ryder shoot past the Jeep without looking back and down for him. Silly illusionist, Felix wouldn’t have made the same mistake.

His brother bolts after Ryder, cheeks flush with orange magic and his face bright with joy. Sans grins, that warms his soul as much as seeing Lilith happy; his smirk turns sharper, knowing he and Lilith are going to win this fight.

He loves his brother, without a doubt. He brother was the best, hands down, the whole Den thought so. That won’t stop Sans from winning this one.

Sans side steps into the void, feels the pull of a door opening and closing behind him and between one blink and another, another door opens, and Sans pops out in the forest.

He doesn’t have much time, is mate is quick and she has two Den mates on her tail who are willing and able to pelt her with snowballs. 

Twisting around, Sans uses blue magic to take hold of the unsuspecting looking brush gathered carefully on the ground; dead and fallen from the ice and wind storms, pushing it all off to the side to reveal the army of snow balls that he and Lilith have secretly been creating since the first snow fall.

Sans grins down at their armory fondly, a mischievous glint in his eyes and his sharp little eye teeth catching the mid morning light, and Sans feels his soul pulse with sheer, unadulterated joy. At last count, he and Lilith had created four hundred and ninety-five snowballs, and he will never, _ever_ admit to anyone how much effort he actually put into this with Lilith to make all those snowballs.

He, after all, has a reputation to uphold.

Lilith, he knows, will keep his secret. Knows that he had far too much fun setting up this trap with his mate to tease him about this. She knows that he’s oddly sensitive about these things and she’s been nothing but supportive.

Rocking back on his heels, Sans grins at his and Lilith’s army of snowballs, all their hard work, the fruit of the December labor and it’s about to all be worth it. Side stepping into another shortcut brings Sans into the trees, leaning carefully against the truck of the tree that gives him a good vantage point of the ‘attack zone’ without slipping and falling out of the tree.

Lifting his control hand, blue magic gently surrounds the snowballs, all four hundred and ninety-five of them and lifts them into the trees for cover.

Sans’s breathing slows, and he quietly waits, excitement and nerves fill him; he chuckles darkly when he finally see’s Lilith’s reddish brown hair suddenly bobbing among the white snow, leading Papyrus and Ryder into their trap.


	11. Christmas Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus gets let in on the family secret recipe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pure fluff. Nothing but happy, found family, Christmas fluff.
> 
> Come chat with me on twitter at @AcidFlames

It was late into the afternoon when Papyrus came inside, his coat covered in snow and cold from the snap of winter that dropped another foot of snow on them.

He'd taken Frisk and her little friends to a winter festival into downtown Ebott, volunteered to do it when he'd found out that Asriel was coming to spare his brother the discomfort. If Papyrus was honest with himself, he didn't know who to believe when it came to the child, didn't know if the prince was evil or lived a tortured existence taking the blame for something another version of himself did.

What he did know, Asriel made Sans uncomfortable, made him afraid sometimes and sometimes Papyrus heard soft sobs from his brothers’ room after encountering the prince. Lilith usually looked tired after those nights, like she'd been up all night with Sans, and likely had been. Those days were usually quiet, and often Lilith would stay home with his brother rather then deal with threats outside their home.

Papyrus saw all this, saw how when of their own was hurting the others rallied around them, protected them at the cost of everything else. Sometimes at the cost of themselves and the people they were to protect.

So, Papyrus did what he did best, and protected his brother. He protected their Den by proxy, keeping everyone he loved best, safe.

But now it was late afternoon, the kids had all been herded inside, and likely by now enjoying Toriel's baking.

Frisk would be happy, seeing their little friends a little longer, and getting to spend time with the former queen. His brother would be happy to avoid Asriel, and really that seemed like a win-win to Papyrus.

Shucking off his winter coat, Papyrus hung it up neatly before he came deeper into their home; huffing a sigh and hanging his brother’s sweater up after it had slipped off the hanger and to the floor.

The smell of warm baked goods filled his nasal cavity, making magic water hungrily behind his teeth. It smelt fresh and sweet, what ever it was.

Cutting through the living room, he gave a small wave to Lilith from where she lounged with his brother; she was laying on her back, Sans stretched out between her legs with his skull nestled into her belly deep asleep with a movie playing in the background.

Lilith grinned back at him, giving him a mock salute as he passed through, staying blessedly quiet to let Sans sleep a little longer.

Papyrus was no fool, he knew his brother had issues, that he hurt a lot of the time and that his low HP was only part of the problem. He was getting better, he was, but these things were progressive, and Sans needed baby steps.

Or, at least that's what Lilith said, and Papyrus trusted Lilith with his brother, so that was enough for him.

Slipping into the kitchen, Papyrus grinned at Lola as she carefully pulls a tray of cookies from the oven. The smile is quickly returned, and Papyrus feels something in his soul soften; it makes him happy when people are pleased to see him.

It... Wasn't always like that underground, and the mages are strangely protective of him because of it.

"How was the festival Paps?" Lola's voice is soft and cheerful in a way that only a kindness soul or those variants can be.

Slipping into a chair, Papyrus grins at her, mindful to keep his voice down while his brother sleeps, "It was wonderful." He gushed as quietly as he could, bringing a brighter smile to Lola's face, "The town has set up hundreds of Christmas lights, every tree and bush in the park is dripping with them, I am hoping to go back tonight with Ryder to see the park lit up."

Lola didn't bother to hide her smile, and her words made Papyrus blush, "That sounds very romantic Papyrus." There was a little, playful tone to her voice that made him almost bashful.

Clearing his throat, he scratched the back of his skull, "Ah. Well. The rides were fun as well. Frisk and her little friends enjoyed them best."

With a knowing little smirk, Lola’s eye’s flash green as amusement makes her seems a little brighter, but Lola is kinder than her brothers and sisters, doesn’t tease mercilessly and lets Papyrus change the subject, “What are you making?”

“Cookies.” Lola tells him happily despite the sharp smirk. It’s not the knife’s edge of Lilith, Felix or even Sans, and not the darkness that comes from Sloan, but it still tells Papyrus all he needs to know.

“Family…” he pauses, knowing that the topic of family is a touchy one for the mages, and one day Papyrus wants to know why, “Family recipe?”

As expected, Lola stills and Papyrus frowns at her back; she recovers quicker than the others do, doesn’t have the lingering bitterness or anger and when she looks over her shoulder to smile at Papyrus, it’s a little brighter than sharper.

“No,” her voice is soft as she begins to make more dough for more cookies, “My parents died in the war not long after I was born, and our Den mother, Maia, was an old battle mage who never saw the point in frivolous things like baked goods.”

Papyrus frowns at that, knows he should say something, but nothing quite measures up and apologise just seem hallow, “Where did you learn then?”

Lola snorts, it’s a rough, ugly sound that he doesn’t usually associate with her. Lola is smaller than her sisters, and delicate, ~~accept when she’s not,~~ and a kind person who sees the best in everyone. Lola reminds Papyrus of him, a little bit.

“The back of ratty magazine.” She admitted, but her smile cheeky and bright, “After the war, I was looking for something to do to occupy my time. A hobby, so I didn’t obsess like the battle mages where. They had their patrols, and eventually therapy helped them calm a little and take up real hobbies.” The number of fast cars and dangerous bikes in the garage that Lilith and Felix owned a testament to the kind of hobbies they took up, “And I found this shitty recipe in the back of this sun-bleached magazine. I’ve been practicing ever since.”

Lola grins at him, “It’s the first thing I ever did for myself, the first selfish thing that I enjoyed. It was something I didn’t have to share with anyone, if I didn’t want to. It was mine, and mine alone.”

She looks back at the dough, kneeding it thoroughly with soft hands that Papyrus can’t imagine being in a war. Can’t imagine being used to kill, but he’s seen Lola’s LV, an astounding _17_ , and knows the truth.

“Papyrus,” Her quiet voice breaks his train of thought, draws his look back up to her, “Would you like me to teach you to make cookies? This is a simple recipe, it’s a good one to start to learn with.”

Blinking slowly at her, Papyrus smiles at her. Lola wants to share something special with him. Something that was all hers, and no one else’s.

“Of course, Lola. I would be delighted to learn your recipe.” And Papyrus feels his soul sing when she beams at him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The secret is, there is no secret.


	12. Gyftmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its Gyftmas morning, the gifts have all been opened and Sans gets a soft moment with his mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovlies! 
> 
> Here we are, the last chapter of the Christmas special, I did it! :D 
> 
> lol it was cutting it close, I wanted to ensure that all of the chapters were done before I go on vacation on the 2nd. After today, I will be out of the country, so there will be no updates until at least after the 9th, but rest assure that while I am gone, I do plan to get a bit of writing done :) 
> 
> The first chapter of the next (and last for this arc) Slice of Life stories has been completed, and I am well into the first part of the next major arc as well. (I can't wait!) That will still need major editing before it's ready, but I think you will all enjoy the tasty, tasty angst. 
> 
> In the mean time, enjoy the last bit of Christmas fluff :) 
> 
> Follow me on twitter if you want to chat Undertale or Fandom :) 
> 
> @FlamesAcid

Sans stirred as light from the early morning sun shone through the glass of the too clean window, burrowing his face into Lilith’s shoulder with a groan. The light persisted, shining hotly across his face and into his closed sockets, making Sans flinch further into Lilith’s muscular body trying and failing to hide from the light.

Irritation flickered through him as the light continued to prod softly, unwanted warmth spreading across his skull as the sunlight woke his magic a little further. Huffing a sigh, Sans groaned and pushed himself up to glower darkly at the blind that was opened a crack, letting just enough sunlight to stretch its tiny rays far enough to blind him, the light laying perfectly over his eyes.

Fuckery, that’s what this was.

Around him, his family lay in different stages of disarray and deep sleep after Frisk had gotten them all up at the ass crack of dawn to open her Gyftmas gifts. Honestly, how the kid even woke up at three in the morning, Sans had no idea. _Why_ the mages went along with said nonsense, that was another issue all together.

Wearily, Sans rubbed his too dry sockets, glaring hotly at the blinking green numbers from the entertainment system and he doesn’t know how it can only be seven thirty in the fucking morning. More importantly, why in the hell was he at such a perfect angle for the sun to wake him up? How did that _even_ happen.

He had been curled on the couch with Lilith; her back pressed into the back of the couch, and an arm tucked under her head to give her neck a more comfortable angle to sleep against the arm of said couch. Sans had been pressed into her body, his legs tangled with hers, his face pressed into her chest while her other arm wrapped around him securely.

On the floor by the Gyftmas tree, surrounded by the torn wrapping paper, Felix lay sound asleep on his back, one arm tucked under his head while the other wrapped around Frisk. The kiddo had her head nestled into the battle mages belly, both sound asleep amongst the wreckage of paper.

Ryder had some how claimed the recliner, the old man that he was at heart, sound asleep tipped back with his feet up, nestled securely in the squishy cushions of the chair. Papyrus has climbed into his lap not long after the big mage had laid back intending to nap, and currently his brother had his head tucked under Ryder’s chin, teeth pressed into the hallow of the mage’s throat. Long arms wrapped around the muscular body, and Papyrus’s long legs were pulled up a little tighter to fit along side Ryder’s thicker ones.

The illusionist hadn't bothered to even blushed when his brother climbed into his lap, and Ryder quietly opened his arms the moment Papyrus started to climb into his lap. Large, muscular arms wrapped around Papyrus’s skeletal body, locking him against Ryder’s chest. His brothers rumbling purr was muffled by Ryder’s black shirt, but it was slow and steady like that of a big cat.

The sight warmed Sans’s soul, despite the irritation from the sun; his brother was happy and that’s what mattered. He was even purring, and Sans couldn’t remember the last time he heard his brother’s motor run like that, a sure sign that he was _happy_.

Fuck, Sans couldn’t remember the last time he’d purred, was sure that Lilith hadn’t heard it before. 

Lola shifted from where she was pressed into the other side of the couch by Lilith’s feet, curling into the hallowed space behind his mate’s knees. She had a pillow tucked under her head and the new recipe book that Papyrus had gotten her for Gyftmas was tucked like a teddy bear between her arms.

Undyne was asleep more under the Gyftmas tree than not, the new battle axe that Felix had given her being used as a pillow, and Sans wasn’t entirely sure how safe that was for her. He shrugged it off, it was too early, and he was too tired to contemplate such things.

Alphys had her head on Undyne’s hip, her arm wrapped around Undyne’s leg so that her hand nestled softly onto Undyne’s bottom, and her fingers had slipped into the back pocket of Undyne’s jeans.

Sans grinned a little further, wishing he had his phone. That would make a hell of a shot.

Lastly, Sloan curled into the bean bag chair near Felix, her one hand reaching out to lightly keep a hold on his ankle, almost afraid that he would disappear if someone didn’t keep a hold of him.

Taking a moment, Sans felt his sockets suddenly itch as an odd but strong wave of emotion washed over him. It made his still cracked soul pulse with affection and love.

These were his people. This was _his_ family.

They would go to war for him, _had_ gone to war for him and loved him as he was. Loved him despite being a little bit bent, a little bit broken.

These were his people, and Sans would just as readily deal with any threat to their safety as they would, viciously if he needed to. He vowed, then and there, in the quiet post Gyftmas wrapping apocalypse that no one would hurt his family.

Lilith shifted beside him, one eye squinting open, “Love? What are you doing?” her voice is oddly soft with drowsiness.

It makes Sans smile, his soul pulsing with affection, “Nothing evil mage. Just shutting a window, go back to sleep for a bit.”

His mate, his vicious, high LV, deep welled mate sighed sleepily, soft and plush and her eye closed as she settled back into sleep, “Kay.”

Grinning, he used blue magic to grasp the blind and pull it down the rest of the way, blocking the sun from intruding on their Gyftmas morning nap. Sans settled back into his place against Lilith’s chest, his arms going around her to snuggle back in.

Listening to his brother’s purr made the back of Sans’s throat itch, a sensation he hasn’t felt in years as a contentment filled him. His own purr wasn’t as smooth as Papyrus’s, it was rough with disuse and caught in his throat.

Still, he managed to as that soft feeling filled him, making the purr come just a little easier. Lilith shifted, her brow furrowing, “Are you purring?” she asked sleepily, startling Sans enough that it petered out and blush flushed his skull.

“Yes?” it came out as a hesitant question rather then a confident answer.

Lilith sighed softly, nuzzling the top of his skull, “That’s so fucking cute.” Her lips pressed into a soft kiss against his bones, “I love you Sans.”

The sudden tightness in his chest loosened when he heard her say she liked his purr, thought it to be cute, and that made it easier to start it up again, rough and quiet, “Love you too Lilith.”

She smiled against his bones, and Sans basked in the warmth he felt from her. From the love she had for him.

They settled back to sleep, warm and content, surrounded by their family.

In all honesty, this had been the best Gyftmas Sans had in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy New Years!


End file.
